Just the Beginning
by Miss Bloodrose
Summary: Arthur Kirkland is a 15 year old prince of England, and he hates it. He hates sending people to war, to their deaths, and he hates the drab palace life that comes with it. But when a new servant, Alfred F. Jones, is granted to him, how will the American affect him? And what will Arthur do to save everything he's learned to care about? UsUk Rated M for later chapters.
1. The meeting of two whom were meant to be

Author's Note: Alright! I have about 75% of this already written, so hopefully quick updates! I just adore UsUk, so I had to write this! AND YES I KNOW, Alfred is completely out of character, I promise, it changes totally. It is a part of the plan, so please, no comments about that. So I would be thankful for comments, they seriously make me happy. Without further ado, Just The Beginning!

**Just the beginning**

Chapter 1: The meeting of two whom were meant to be.

Arthur sat atop his throne, looking down over his kingdom, his palace, his prison. He sighed and drummed his fingers against the armrest. He was dressed in his usual attire, long black dress pants, a blood red dress shirt, a tight black vest revealing how terribly frail he was, and a marvelous shining cape that trailed behind him in a flowing motion when he walked. The day was like any other, boring as hell. He would sign 50 papers, declare war and then apologize to avoid said war, his boring and terribly old servant would serve him a dry piece of some type of cake, and then he would be forced to retire to bed. He was so lost in thought he did not hear someone enter the room and close the old mahogany door behind them.

"Good evening Sire, we are very sorry to report your last servant was in a terrible accident and will be unable to perform his duties." Arthur looked to the old man that was holding the door open and sighed.

"Very well then." he said quietly, not really caring about the old bat that would pester him and force him to do boring things he did not wish to do.

"We have already arranged for another slave to take his place." the man said, acting as if the bad news would cause their young king to go into a fit of rage and backing up slightly so he was pressed up against the door. Arthur merely rolled his eyes, almost everyone was scared of him, because of his father.

"Alright." He said in a bored tone, picturing a 70 year old man whom would force him to go to bed and eat what he did not wish to. The door man nodded and mumbled his 'good day' before walking out of the room and closing the door firmly behind him, locking it. Arthur guessed that was due to the fact he had tried to run away a few months ago. He was only 15, he didn't want to declare war and cause death! He wanted to live like any normal kid, but of course that just wasn't freaking aloud, he was a prince, the son of a great king, he could never act normal.

The young prince closed his emerald green eyes out of tiredness and ran his slender fingers through his wheat blond hair. The door opened a second time, the tired Brit turned his head to see a boy about his age walk in, balancing a silver platter with a tea cup and plate with some sort of food on it on his fingertips. He kept his sea blue eyes trained on the ground, Arthur watched him in fascination. The prince was quite astounded they had chosen someone so young to serve him, someone who seemed so spirited.

Arthur slowly stood up and hopped down the many stairs towards the boy, his bright emerald eyes searching up and down the boy taking in his attire. Simple black cargo pants, a white buttoned up collared shirt with a dark red vest buttoned over it, and a black and red striped tie. Arthur could tell he was shaking slightly but couldn't figure out why. The boy had dirty blond hair that clung to his cheekbones and jaw line slightly and an irritating cow lick that the prince could already tell would be getting on his nerves, seeing it bounce with the boys every step.

"Hello, are you my new servant?" Arthur questioned, still looking up at the boy. The servant jumped, not noticing that Arthur was standing there and dropped the silver platter, it's contents spilling all over the floor, Arthur's favorite blue tea cup shattering into a million pieces.

"Oh fuck, I'm sorry!" the boy apologized, sinking to his knees to clean up the mess. Arthur might of been upset if it wasn't for how badly the boy already seemed to have an air of fear hanging around him.

"It's alright." Arthur said, sinking to his knees as well to help clean up the mess.

"Y-You don't need to do t-that!" The servant stuttered, still shaking slightly. Arthur shrugged and continued to help.

"So you are my new servant?" Arthur questioned, still wanting an answer.

"Y-Yes sir." He said quickly, putting the remains of the cup on the silver platter.

"What's your name?" Arthur wondered, the boy looked up at him.

"A-Alfred, Alfred F. Jones." he replied. Arthur looked into his eyes curiously, he had only seen a very select few people around his age. Alfred had been distracted by the prince and his hand slid across a small shard of the porcelain cup. He yelped and yanked his hand away from where the small shard had been and loomed down at the deep cut for a moment before shoving his hand in his pocket.

"S-Sorry if I got blood anywhere!" he apologized, Arthur gaped at him, surprised THAT was what he was worried about.

Alfred stood up and tried to walk out of the room, Arthur grabbed his arm, Alfred yelped like a kicked puppy. Arthur quickly let go of his arm, afraid he was hurting him.

"I'm really really sorry that I screwed this up, I can fix your cup, I'm pretty good with my h-hands, but just don't…" the next words were nearly inaudible, "Don't hit me, please." He whispered, shaking violently, his entire face paled remarkably.

"H-Hit you? I wouldn't hit you!" Arthur protested, Alfred looked at him, the fear in his eyes evident. Arthur's eyes strayed to the back of his neck, he could see itty bitty scars, he guessed the beginning of whip lash marks. Arthur silently bet if he could see the boys bare back there would be long vertical lash marks streaking what would probably be perfect and beautiful skin.

"Let me help with your hand." Arthur said quietly, telling more than asking. Alfred shook his head.

"N-No! Don't worry about me, I'm alright!" he protested, a small smile appeared on the princes face as he took the platter from the weakly protesting Alfred and walked to the kitchen to drop it off.

He took the now quiet Alfred to the garden and sat down in the middle on an old marble bench. Alfred looked around in wonder at the roses, there were millions of them! Pink, red, white, yellow, and even a beautiful dark blue rose; each with a hint of the rain from last night dangling off the edge of the delicate pedals.

"Wow, this is awesome!" Alfred said excitedly, trying to take in the breath taking image of the roses that were coming down from the old crumbly brick walls and draping around everything. He hardly remembered where he was until he looked over to Arthur and remembered where he was and how he was supposed to be acting around the great prince. The smile quickly left his face and he calmed down.

"You think? I don't let many people back here, it's just for me." Arthur said, looking around as well. Alfred immediately tried to get up from the bench.

"O-Oh, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't be here should I?" he tried to walk out but Arthur stopped him by standing up quickly, stepping in front of him.

"I let you in here, you're welcome to stay here whenever." Arthur said, guiding the boy over to the marble bench and sitting him down. "Now let me see your hand." he instructed, Alfred slowly removed his hand from his pocket and edged it closer to the young prince.

"R-Really sir, you don't need to worry yourself over me!" Alfred said again, Arthur chose to ignore him and focus on the cut. He took Alfred's hand in his and moved it closer to him so he could see the wound better.

"The glass is still in your hand..." Arthur observed, reaching for the small first aid kit and retrieving the tweezers. "This may hurt a bit..." he said, Alfred nodded. Arthur made sure he had a firm grip on the glass before carefully pulling it out. Alfred winced and bit his lip but made no sounds as the glass was pulled out. Arthur quickly grabbed bandages to prevent the wound from bleeding and wrapped them tightly around his hand. A minute later he sat back, making sure the bandages were tied on tightly enough.

"Thank you." Alfred murmured, scooting away from the young prince, still wary of him. Arthur nodded and went back to looking at the roses. "So..." Alfred began, "I've never seen blue roses before, I haven't seen many roses actually." Alfred admitted.

"I love roses, they're amazing. Blue roses are quite uncommon, I must admit my father threw a fit when all I wanted for my 14th birthday was a blue rose. But," he sighed at the memory of his father red in the face, overfilling with fury at how much of a 'disgrace' his son was, "I love roses..." he finished, staring at a perfectly bloomed navy blue rose.

"Your father should be proud." Alfred looked like he was using most of his bravery just to speak. Arthur had an awful gut feeling he had been treated awfully before he came to Arthur. The young prince looked over at him, his emerald eyes looking softly into Alfred's bright sapphire ones.

"Why?" he wondered, Alfred took a deep breath, trying to will himself to say what he wanted to.

"H-He raised you to be an amazing person." Alfred looked say, mildly embarrassed. Arthur looked at him in shock before turning to look at a blood red rose. Neither of them said anything for awhile, Alfred knew he shouldn't of said that, it was out of line for someone like him. But he couldn't help it, at least he didn't include 'and your eyes are exquisite' like he had planned on earlier. Well... They were!

Alfred still felt a bit timid after the day, the happy king could be an act and he could just be there to hit and hurt him, just like the last oh so awesome king. The memory made him actually scoot away until he was on the edge of the bench, 'Thats it' Alfred thought, 'It's all an act'. The thought was sad but Alfred had a feeling it was true. Arthur looked over at him questioningly, noticing how he had moved away.

"The suns about to set, are you ready to go back?" Arthur asked, Alfred jumped at the sudden sound but nodded and stood up, waiting for his prince to stand and walk in front of him. Arthur eyed the boy warily, noticing that out of nowhere he had become cold and began to look like he feared him again. Arthur tested his guess and took a step closer to him so their arms were almost touching. Alfred immediately took a step in the same direction, putting a foot or two of space between them.

Arthur sighed, this would take some time. He let it go and returned to the castle, allowing the American to return to his room.

"Oh, and by the way I'm Arthur, Arthur Kirkland." Arthur said to Alfred. The boy nodded.

"Have a good night, sire." The boy said before heading back to his room. Arthur sighed, wishing the boy would at least address him with his real name. If they were going to be stuck like glue like he and his servants usually were (due to his father making sure he never had a chance to run away) he wished he would just call him Arthur.

Arthur returned to his room and changed into a nightgown. His stomach growled when he remembered he hadn't eaten dinner, oh well. He remembered that Alfred hadn't either and he walked towards the door, not wanting the lad not to eat. He walked to the kitchen and was about to cook when he remembered what happened last time he attempted cook (exploding kitchen). He sighed and walked to his cooks room, knocking and politely asking to make him and Alfred something. The man agreed with a nod and walked to the kitchen, quickly preparing stew for the two of them.

Arthur walked to Alfred's room, hoping he wasn't already asleep. He passed his fathers bedroom and turned left, finally reaching Alfred's room. Usually a servant wouldn't have had a room anywhere near the castle but Alfred was considered Arthur's right hand man, so he was allowed to sleep in the palace.

"Alfred, are you still awake?" Arthur asked, noticing the door was cracked and using his shoulder to push it open and walk through. The first thing he saw was Alfred sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, he looked terribly troubled, Arthur noted. Alfred heard someone enter and he quickly stood up, Arthur almost gasped as he saw the full extent of the dozens of scars running along his chest and his back. Alfred jumped when he realized who it was and went diving under his bed to find a shirt.

"Uhh, s-sorry bout that." Alfred mumbled, pulling a shirt over his head and covering his toned, scarred and amazing chest. Another thing Arthur noted was that some of the scars weren't scars at all, rather fresh cuts inflicted what looked like 2 or 3 days ago. They were red and slightly puffy, a couple were even bleeding slightly.

"N-no problem, I remembered we didn't eat dinner so I got my chef to make us some." Arthur said, deciding to bring up the cuts after dinner.

"Y-you didn't have to worry about me!" Alfred said, astounded yet again about how kind the boy was to someone of his status. Arthur chuckled and walked over to the boy and offered him the bowl, Alfred took it slowly.

"May I sit?" Arthur motioned towards the bed.

"Of course, sire." Alfred said, scooting over so the young prince could sit next to him. Arthur plopped down next to the American and began to eat, Alfred slowly did the same. Both ate in silence for a moment, Arthur worrying about the wounds all over Alfred.

"You have an amazing cook." Alfred said quietly, finishing off his bowl of the heavenly stew.

"Yes, I am always quite pleased with his work." Arthur agreed, Alfred looked like he wanted to say something badly, he was squirming. "Do you have something to say?" Arthur asked. Alfred debated mentally for another moment before slowly speaking.

"Does he, er... Does he ever make hamburgers?" he asked timidly, Arthur thought.

"He has once or twice, do you like hamburgers?" Arthur asked, The American slowly nodded. "I can ask him to make them some time if you want me to." Arthur offered.

"No, it's alright. Don't worry about it." Alfred said quickly, not wanting the kind boy to have to worry about him.

"I can, really easily. It is no bother." Arthur said, wanting the boy to speak what he wanted.

"A-alright, thank you." Alfred said quietly, Arthur nodded and set his bowl down on the floor next to Alfred's.

"Can I help with the cuts on your back?" Arthur asked, looking over to the boy.

"P-please don't worry about it, it's nothing!" Alfred quickly said. Arthur looked into the boys sky blue eyes, he noticed his pupils were shaking slightly. Alfred held his gaze, barely, he looked like he wanted to look away several times but didn't. Arthur kept staring, refusing to look away until Alfred let him help. Alfred slowly nodded and Arthur smiled.

Arthur excused himself for a moment and retuned a minute later with a first aid kit dangling in his hand. Arthur sat behind Alfred so he could get a better view of his back, Arthur could tell that was where the worst of it was. Alfred slowly pulled off his shirt, Arthur looked sadly at the old and newer scars. There were 3 ones that he could do something with to help the pain. Arthur slowly wiped off all three of them, cleaning off all of the old and dried blood, he ran his fingers over the soft skin and Alfred shivered slightly at the princes touch. Arthur was about to open his mouth to ask about how he had acquired the cuts but Arthur beat him to it.

"I would be very grateful if you didn't ask where they came from." he said weakly, Arthur felt awful at how sad and broken his voice sounded, he seemed used to this.

"Alright." Arthur answered simply, returning to placing bandages over the cleaned wounds. "Done." he said and stood up, picking up the empty plates as he went.

"Thank you." Alfred, his back actually feeling much better, Arthur nodded. "Oh, I can get those." Alfred offered, Arthur shook his head.

"I can drop them off on my way back to my room, have a good night Alfred." The prince said, turning to leave the room.

"You too, sire." Alfred replied tiredly, crawling into the warm bed.

Alfred watched as the young prince left the room, he smiled softly at how cute he looked in the nightgown. Wait, what? Alfred shook the cute thought out of his head and closed his eyes, refusing to think such thoughts.

Arthur walked down the halls of the castle, dropping off the plates as he returned to his room, for the first time in a while his day had actually been quite tiring. He thought about Alfred, and wondered how the long and painful looking cuts came to be. He sighed, wishing the boy would tell him, but oh well. It was his first day, he was sure to open up a bit. Arthur crawled into the fluffy duvet and closed his eyes, exhausted.

Author's Note: So not much to say here, just enjoy and PLEASE, if you liked it, comment! I can't take it when people just read it and they're like "I don't feel like commenting." I know people do it because I used to. So please, go ahead and brighten my day.

Thanksies for reading~!~


	2. Diversions and dilemmas

Chapter 2: Diversions and dilemmas

*The following morning*

Alfred woke up at 7:30, ready to make a wonderful breakfast for his prince. He slipped out of bed and pulled on his days outfit; black slacks, a white button up shirt, and a pitch black vest. He slipped on a pair of black shoes walked to his princes study, astounded to see Arthur already up and working intently on something, his brows furrowed in concentration.

"Good morning sir." Alfred said, walking into the room. Arthur looked up from his work, his eyes trained on Alfred.

"Good morning, did you sleep well?" Arthur asked, Alfred nodded truthfully.

"Yessir, you're up early." Alfred noted, Arthur sighed and nodded, rubbing his temple and tapping his chin with his pen.

"Bloody war, it's time consuming." Arthur said, returning his eyes back to his work.

"How long have you been up?" Alfred asked, Arthur thought for a moment, staring off into space tiredly before snapping back into reality and looking back at Alfred.

"Since 3am." Arthur said tiredly, finally answering his question.

"Holy crap, since 3?!" Alfred asked in awe, his prince had only gotten 5 hours of sleep! Arthur nodded, returning his gaze to the dozens of papers presented in front of him. Alfred stood there for a moment before telling Arthur to call him if he needed anything and leaving the room, deciding there wasn't much he could do. Arthur sighed and wished he could leave as well, but the thoughts left his head as he was forced to sign a treaty giving away a bit of his goods. He sighed, not wanting to be the cause of people losing their jobs.

The rest of the day went normally enough; Alfred brought him lunch around 1 which was probably the highlight of his day, getting to see a human being. Around 9pm Arthur finally closed his work as stood up, about to go to bed. A small smile appeared on his face when Alfred stumbled in, losing his balance the second he walked through the door. He apologized over and over again for knocking over a book shelf which he had grabbed to try to steady himself. Arthur told him it was fine and helped him stand, making sure he was alright.

They both pushed the bookshelf back into a standing position before shoving all of the books back onto the shelves, Alfred still apologizing.

"You're quite clumsy aren't you?" Arthur asked, Alfred blushed a bit and answered.

"S-Sorry, I don't try to be." he mumbled, returning to cramming a huge book onto an overly tight shelf. Arthur laughed, truly happy to be talking to the boy.

"Clumsy people are fun to be around sometimes..." Arthur mused, finishing with the next to top shelf. He tried to reach the top shelf but found himself a few inches too short, the book still in his hand was balancing on the edge of the shelf. Alfred smiled and reached up for it, placing it on the shelf, he was several inches taller than Arthur. "You're lucky you're so tall..." Arthur mumbled, unhappy with his current height. Alfred smiled but said nothing.

Ten minutes later the shelves were properly fixed and Arthur stretched his arms, extremely tired.

"Time for bed sir?" Alfred asked, Arthur shook his head.

"Not quite, want to go get some dinner first?" Arthur asked.

"If you want to go to your garden I can bring it to you." Alfred suggested, Arthur nodded, quite liking the idea.

"That sounds swell, bring some for yourself." Arthur said, heading towards the gardens entrance. Alfred nodded and walked through the door, hitting his shoulder accidentally against the door frame as he went. Arthur chucked and walked out to the rose garden, picking a blood red rose as he went, twirling it around in his hand.

Alfred found his prince ten minutes later and handed him the plate of pasta, Arthur thanked him and motioned for him to sit down next to him. Alfred slowly sat next to him, looking at the rose Arthur had dropped on the gardens floor. He slowly reached down and picked it up, twirling it around.

"Roses suit you." Alfred said slowly, trying to find the words he wanted to say. Arthur looked over at him.

"What?" Arthur wondered what he meant.

"Roses, they uh... Suit you. You're..." he thought for a moment, "similar." Arthur looked at him questioningly.

"In what ways?" Arthur questioned. Alfred wanted to say 'beautiful' or 'radiant' or 'amazing, sexy' or even 'untouchable' but said:

"Erm, I just mean they suit you well. Certain flowers suit certain people." Arthur nodded, not knowing what he had really meant.

Alfred sneezed, "Scuze me..." he mumbled, wiping his nose.

"Are you sick?" Arthur asked, slightly worried.

"Nah, or I mean, no sir. It's just the-" he sneezed again, "p-pollen..." he sniffled, Arthur looked at him concerned but remained silent.

The rest of the night went normally enough, after dinner and their little discussion Alfred and Arthur headed to bed, both of them tired. Both of them fell asleep with each other in their minds.

~The next morning~

Arthur woke up early again to see Alfred had dragged himself out of bed to try to keep his prince company. He had laughed at the American, he most defiantly was NOT a morning person. At 4 in the morning his chef had brought Arthur breakfast, when he saw Alfred up as well he had rushed off to make more, Arthur had noticed the chef had taken a liking to Alfred. And no, not in a pervy way, the chef used to have a son whom he had treasured, after he died Arthur had offered him a job here at the palace which he had gladly accepted. Arthur thought Alfred reminded him of his son a bit.

He returned a moment later with French toast for the half asleep American. Alfred thanked him and quickly ate it, still looking deprived of sleep. Arthur motioned for him to take a seat next to him and the American obliged happily, glad to be off his feet.

"You know Alfred, you don't have to stay up with me, I'm just used to this." Alfred simply shook his head to this.

"I dun mind." he said tiredly, his eyes drooping shut then snapping back open. Arthur smiled sheepishly at the cute attempt to keep him company. He looked over to Alfred who was sitting next to him, trying to wrap his mind around what Arthur was doing. His eyes slowly dropped and this time they stayed closed. Arthur smiled at the now sleeping Alfred until Alfred's head lolled to one side, his body slumped over and suddenly he was half laying on Arthur. Arthur blushed but smiled at the sleeping American, letting him sleep up against him. Alfred's head was resting on Arthur's shoulder, Arthur felt more accompanied than he had in months.

~A few hours later~

Alfred's eyes slowly opened to see Arthur concentrating intensely on a paper, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Alfred looked up at him and realized that he was laying on him, his arms carelessly thrown around the princes torso. Alfred blushed and quickly sat up, blushing and rubbing his eyes.

"I'm sorry, did I fall asleep?" Alfred asked, trying to make his face lose the blush. Arthur nodded.

"It is no problem, you don't need to worry about getting up early to see me." Alfred nodded, a bit relieved to hear the words.

The rest of the day went amazingly. Alfred cracked 6 jokes, one of which Arthur laughed so hard at he had fallen out of his chair, Alfred catching him just in time. Alfred sneezed twice more, Arthur kept a stern eye on him, concerned he was getting sick even though Alfred insured he wasn't.

The next day Alfred continuously sneezed and coughed, the next he looked like he had lost sleep, the next he had to sit down the entire day rather than stand up and crack jokes, and the next day after that Alfred had quickly excused himself from the room looking terribly pale, Arthur followed after him to find him puking in the bathroom. And finally, 5 days after Alfred's initial promise he wasn't sick, the American was bed ridden. Arthur constantly visited him despite his work, the sick and frail looking boy telling him not to worry and that he was fine, but that was obviously a lie.

Arthur started to despise his work, it kept him from seeing Alfred whom actually needed him. Arthur had an idea to cheer up the American and went to the kitchen, telling his chef to bring Alfred hamburgers for lunch. He was pleased to see the huge grin appear on the pale boys face when Arthur presented him with a platter of the burgers.

~6 days later~

The time was 10:30pm, the moon was shining through the windows as Arthur headed to Alfred's room to say good night. He walked in to see Alfred, leaning over a pail placed next to the large bed. He was coughing violently, a dark liquid dripped down his chin and landed into the pail, which Arthur immediately recognized as blood. Arthur almost dropped the hot chocolate he had brought for the boy as he bolted over to him, patting his back and trying to soothe the shaking and coughing American. A minute later the blood stopped and Alfred slowly crawled back onto the bed and under the sheets, still shaking violently.

"D-Don't worry a-about m-m-me. I'm f-fine." he managed to say with a great amount of difficulty the shivering was so bad. Arthur said nothing, wiping away a bit of blood on the corner of the shivering Americans chin. He looked down at him sadly, taking in the sight of the pale, shaking, and now slightly bloody American. Alfred wrapped the blanket around himself but couldn't find warmth, he wished Arthur would leave so he wouldn't have to see him in such a state.

Arthur said nothing, his brain came up with an idea to keep Alfred warm. He sat on the edge of the bed, scooting closer to the shivering American. Alfred seemed to realize what he was signaling and weakly extended his hands like a toddler reaching for his mother, pulling the warm Brit closer to him. Arthur wrapped his arms around the boy's waist, desperately trying to keep him warm by rubbing his hands up and down Alfred's back. Alfred sunk into the princes arms, loving the warm feeling he emitted. Alfred smiled weakly and closed his eyes.

"D-don't worry, s-sire. I'll be b-back on my f-feet in n-no time." he mumbled, quickly falling asleep in the Brits arms.

Arthur stayed in the bed for two hours, determined to keep the American warm until he could no longer keep his eyes open. He finally crawled away from the sleeping American, laying him down on the soft bed and pulling the fluffy duvet covers up to his chin. He slowly walked back to his room, plopping down on the bed and falling asleep immediately.

~the next day~

Alfred's condition worsened, Arthur grew more and more worried of the outcome of the sickness. Arthur finally called a doctor, out of ideas on how to help his exceedingly sick friend. The doctor arrived at 10:00am, with the entire getup, the white coat the flowed behind them when he walked like he was some oh-so-great god, a stethoscope wrapped around his neck loosely, everything. Arthur directed him to Alfred's room, the doctor told Arthur to wait outside.

Arthur sat outside of the sick boy's room, running his hands through his hair. The doctor came out and he bolted upright, immediately asking what was wrong with the American.

"I can conclude that he has a very rare form of malaria, it causes nausea, fever, headache, pains, cramps, throwing up of blood, hallucinations, nightmares and on a very very rear occasion… death." Arthur paled considerably at the word, death... Would Alfred die?! "But the last one is a worst case scenario. All you can do right now is stay by him, keep him comfortable, and hope for the best."

"Isn't there something you can DO?! Like, TRY to help him?!" Arthur demanded, his fear being lashed out on the doctor.

"You just... Have to hope for the best." he replied sadly, "I'm sorry." the doctor said before turning around and walking away. Arthur entered Alfred's room, looking sadly at the sick boy.

"H-Hey..." Alfred said weakly, Arthur knew he felt like shit and wanted to sob and hug him tightly but did nothing of the sort, instead sitting to the bed spent to him and placing his hand on his forehead, taking his temperature. Alfred blushed a bit at the sudden closeness but didn't object.

"They say you'll get better..." Arthur said, Alfred felt an extreme sense of pity for the obviously sad boy.

"I will, dun worry." Alfred said calmly, Arthur smiled at him slightly. The cute Americans head was lulling to one side, he was falling asleep. Arthur moved closer and allowed the American to rest his head on the Brits shoulder. He fell asleep immediately, loving how close he was to the amazing Brit. Arthur remained where he was for hours, letting the boy sleep. He was finally forced to get up to attend to his work, but silently left with the mental promise to return the sleeping Americans side later that night.

Arthur returned to his study to see an entirely new mountain high pile of paper work. Arthur sighed and took the first dozen, leafing through them all and signing where they needed to be signed. A few hours Arthur stretched his arms, pleased with the fact he had finished all of it. He was on his way to Alfred's room when he ran into his father, the king.

"Father, hel-" he was cut off by the heavy voice.

"And where are you going?" he questioned.

"One of my servants, Alfred F. Jones has fallen ill, I was simply, going to see him and make sure he was alright." the king frowned at the words.

"Someone as important as you should not be worrying about someone like him. I will have none of it! I placed another handful of documents in your study, go see to them immediately." Arthur gave him a sorry look.

"Father, I would be grateful if you just let me check in on hi-"

"Study...now." he growled, Arthur looked up at his horrifying father and quickly walked off to his study, whispering 'bloody annoying git' under his breath. Arthur to this day couldn't figure out why he did all the work and not his father, but he sighed, knowing he would keep his promise to go see the sick American after he finished the paperwork.

Arthur returned to his studies to see Mount Everest placed on his deck.

"THAT TWAT!" Arthur roared, knowing most of the documents were supposed to be signed by the king and not him, but his father was yet again being a lazy ass. Arthur sighed angrily and quickly scrawled his signature on any bare line, not caring if that was the incorrect place to sign, the papers had to literally be at least 4 feet tall, no joke.

Arthur FINALLY finished at 9:00pm at night, he cracked his knuckles and walked quickly and quietly to Alfred's room, making sure to avoid his father.

He opened the door and walked in, ready to see the American. He stopped in his tracks and looked at the American, rather, where the American was supposed to be. The bed was completely empty, no sick American could be found. The sheets were in dis-array, like the American had stumbled out of the sheets.

"Alfred!" he called out, bolting to the empty bed, looking all around, "Alfred, where are you?!" he forced himself to calm down and rationalize the problem. He searched around the room and in the near bathrooms, growling in anger when he realized something, his father. He HAD to be behind this. He stomped to his fathers room, not even bothering to knock as he threw the door open. "Where is he?!" Arthur demanded to know, his father looked up from his bed where he had been engrossed in a book.

"Beg your pardon?" he asked innocently.

"Alfred, where is he?" Arthur demanded.

"You need someone to bring you food and assist when assistance is needed, not another thing to trouble yourself over. I sent him away and got you a new one, she should arrive tomorrow morning."

"I do not want another bloody servant, I want Alfred! He makes my life EASIER!" Arthur shouted, the king looked at him with a murderous expression.

"No." he said simply, not offering another answer.

"Yes! Now tell me where you sent him!" Arthur demanded, his father sighed, knowing the boy would be getting his way.

"Away, that's all I said to him. I walked into his rooms and told him to go AWAY, that he was bothering you. My guess would be the market." the king said, Arthur growled at him but bolted out of the room, sprinting to find Alfred. Alfred was sick! He couldn't walk hardly, never mind take care of himself.

Arthur threw a shawl over himself, hiding his fancy clothing from the public eye. He bolted out of the palace gates, heading towards the market.

~Alfred~

'away?' Alfred's mind replayed the one word as he stumbled along the alleyways of the poorer district of the market. 'Did Arthur really want me gone that badly?' he wondered, a pain in his heart forming. Alfred pressed his back against the cold stone wall, sliding down, his head in his hands. His entire body was in pain, his heart especially. He looked up, the moon shining brightly through the thick grey clouds.

"Lookie lookie, what do we have here?" Alfred looked up to see two large men towering over him, "Did a little street rat wonder into our terf.?" Alfred looked up at them just in time to see a fist swing forward and deck him in the face. Alfred stumbled to his feet, his hand covering his jaw in pain.

"Sorry, sorry. Didn't mean to intrude." Alfred mumbled, trying to back away., he was sick and weak, there was no way in hell he could do much. The two didn't seem to care for his apologies, advancing again and kneeing him in the stomach. Alfred coughed and fell to his knees, mentally cursing himself for being sick, on any average day he could have handled them, but with him being sick and almost dying and all- His thoughts were cut off as a foot contacted with his rib cage. Alfred fell back and whimpered, his heart wanting to sob in pain more than his body, 'Arthur wanted me gone' he wanted to sob, feeling another kick.

~Arthur~

The young prince ran through the richest district first, he listened to the steady beat of his shoes hitting the compact dirt as he worked his way down to the poorer districts, looking for only sign of a sick and probably upset teen.

"Alfred!" he would call back every now and then, never receiving an answer. He finally came to the poorest district, his body forced him to stop and heave in the air for a moment. He placed his hands on his knees, gulping in the sweet air before continuing to run at a slower pace for another ten minutes.

He ran along the back ally's, tears almost in his eyes, not having found the American. He rounded one last corner to see two men, one of them punching a blond headed boy, wait...

"Alfred!" he called out, instantly running over and kneeing one of the oafs in the stomach, elbowing the other in the chest. "Scram!" he shouted at them, both ran away in fear of the short, pissed Brit. Arthur himself had had a certain amount of combat training. Alfred had his head hanging, his hand over his chest, coughing in pain. Arthur bolted over to him and knelt down next to him, wrapping his arms around him gingerly. Alfred looked up slowly.

"A-Arthur?" he asked weakly, hardly believing his eyes. Arthur nodded. "I-I thought y-you t-told me t-to l-leave." Alfred mumbled, still not believing his eyes.

"It was my father, Alfred-" he hugged the boy tighter, "I am so, so sorry." Alfred slowly wrapped his arms around the boy, letting tears fall down his cheeks.

"I-I thought y-y-you didn't w-want m-me." he sobbed into the Brits shoulder. Arthur hugged him tightly.

"I would never not want you..." Arthur whispered, rubbing his back, slowly helping the American wobble to his feet. Both boys remained where they were for a moment until Alfred's sobbing subsided. It was obvious that the American couldn't stand on his own, Arthur put a hand under Alfred's arms, helping him walk. They walked slowly, neither of the boys saying anything. Three hours later, around 3 in the morning, the boys wobbled back into Alfred's room, both completely exhausted. Alfred was still exceedingly sick, said American collapsed on the bed, panting slightly. Arthur plopped down beside him, concerned for the sick and wheezing American. "Are you alright?" Arthur asked.

"F-fine, I t-think one of the i-idiots that hit me b-broke one o-or two of my r-ribs." he wheezed, putting a hand weakly to his chest. Arthur looked at him in concern, crawling closer and placing his hand over where a black bruise was forming. Alfred flinched but said nothing, loving the feeling of the Brits hand on his chest.

"They feel broken." Arthur said calmly, "You should get some sleep." Alfred nodded and crawled slowly under the duvet covers. Arthur stood up to leave but felt a hand grab his.

"D-Don't g-go..." he begged quietly, holding weakly onto Arthur's hand. Arthur blushed and let a sheepish smile appear on his face, he sat back on the bed, scooting closer to the injured American and let him lay his head on Arthur's shoulder. Alfred curled up in a ball closer to Arthur, laying his head on the prince's lap. He fell asleep almost immediately to the feeling of Arthur running his hands through his hair.

Arthur stayed up for a while longer, hoping his father wouldn't come in and ruin everything. No. He wouldn't let him. He snuggled closer to Alfred, laying him down on a pillow then lay next to him, looking at the American's face. Returning his hand to the boys injured side, he rubbed it gently. Alfred smiled in his sleep and pressed his nose in the crook of Arthur's neck. Arthur blushed but a small grin slipped onto his face as his eyes closed and he too fell into oblivion.


	3. Obstacles and Frenchmen make a very bad

Chapter 3 Obstacles and Frenchmen make a very bad day

Alfred woke up first, cracking his eyes open to see the first sliver of sun peek through the curtains, noticing the prince was sleeping soundly behind him. Somewhere through the night Alfred had crawled onto Arthur's chest and was sleeping soundly with his nose buried in Arthur's neck. His arms were wrapped protectively around the Brit's middle, and his legs were tangled together with Arthur's under the sheets. Alfred slowly pushed himself into a sitting position slowly and sadly freeing himself from the boys warm and protecting arms. Arthur's eyes slowly opened and he smiled, pleased Alfred was the first thing he had seen that morning.

"Er... Good morning sir." Alfred said, a slight tint of rose tinted his cheeks, a tad embarrassed he had woken up and realized he had slept with his master, and no, not in the pervy way.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" Arthur asked, completely unfazed by the fact he had woken up with Alfred practically on top of him. The prince offered a tired but kind smile, his eyes fighting to remain open. Alfred wanted to scream, 'I slept ON YOU, of course I slept well!' but instead he replied with:

"Yes sir." he said quietly, the pain in his side flared up quickly and he winced. At that exact moment the doors shot open and someone came stomping through.

"You SLEPT with the street rat?!" Arthur stood up quickly, walking in front of the bed, Alfred recognized the man to be the person that told him to leave yesterday, and he shivered at the unpleasant memory.

"Father, I just fell asleep in here, nothing else." Arthur replied calmly. Alfred almost gasped, this man was the king of all mother freaking ENGLAND! The tall and thick man took three huge steps towards Arthur whom didn't so much as flinch at the obvious threat. "And don't call him a street rat." Arthur added afterwards, immediately remembering /who/ had sent his precious Alfred out on the streets. Wait… what?

"DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO CALL THE TWAT!" King Kirkland snapped, Arthur stepped forward and frowned up at the man, he was several inches shorter than the older man.

"Do not," Arthur said calmly, yet the venom in his voice was evident, "Call him that." The older man had had enough, his hand whipped forward and contacted with Arthur's cheek, sending him stumbling backwards. Arthur's hand flew to his right cheek, wincing at the sharp stab of pain.

"Sir!" Alfred called out in surprise, shocked his own father had would do such a thing. Alfred tried to get to his feet, but only earned another stab of pain in his still very sensitive ribs. The chubby man grabbed Arthur by his collar, his fist raised up in the air. Arthur struggled in his grasp, trying to free himself of the iron fist.

Surprisingly, the king released his grip and walked towards Alfred, he raised his hand with every intention to punch the boy as hard as possible. Alfred looked up at him with small tears brimming in the corners of his eyes, still in a terrible amount of pain. At the last second Arthur stopped the fist using his body, the king's fist contacted with Arthur's stomach, the prince stumbled back, coughing and gagging. He fell to his knees for a moment with a hand over his stomach. He closed his eyes tightly and coughed dryly in pain for a moment before standing back up and walking closer to his father.

"Out." Arthur whispered to his father, "Get out of this room right now, you bloody git." his father looked like he was going to hit him again, Arthur could clearly see the vein in his head, but instead he stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Arthur turned to Alfred. "Are you alright?" Arthur asked, Alfred stood up slowly, struggling with the pain and hugged the Brit tightly.

"You didn't need to get hurt for me." he whispered. Arthur's eyes widened as he blushed at the sudden closeness, but didn't pull away.

"Don't worry about it, but you need to get back in bed, you're still injured." Alfred slowly nodded and released the Brit, crawling back into bed, wincing as he did so. Alfred looked back at him from under the covers and couldn't help but to think about the Brits amazing eyes, 'They're the brightest emerald green I've ever seen, so beautiful!' Alfred blushed at the thought, and shook his head to rid it of the thought. "I have to go do paperwork, but I'll come back as soon as I can." Arthur promised, Alfred simply nodded, exceedingly tired even though he'd just woken up.

"Thank you for taking care of me." Alfred said appreciating. Arthur offered another small smile and nod, walking out of the room. The walk to his study was long and agonizing, he finally called a maid to check up on Alfred every hour or so, just to make sure his bloody father didn't try to get rid of Alfred again.

Arthur's work went terribly slow that day, he kept asking the maid to check up on Alfred, just to make sure that nothing had happened. He signed paper after paper, read a very very long complaint from some country, and finally responded with an apology and tea samples. At 12:00am Arthur closed his agenda and walked out of the room and headed to Alfred's room. He walked in and was happy to see the smiling American waiting for him.

"Hello Alfred, feel any better?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah actually, loads better!" the American said with a nod, Arthur smiled happily and sat on the edge of the bed, looking over happily at the American, noticing that indeed his skin was not as pale, and his eyes had re-gained a bit of their shimmer.

The two talked for an hour before Arthur was so tired he excused himself to his room. Alfred called out goodnight and Arthur smiled and returned the peaceful and sweet words.

Arthur fell asleep the second his head hit the covers, he slept peacefully through the night. Alfred himself couldn't close his eyes for a while, the sweet 'goodnight Alfred!' Arthur had said rung in his head, such innocent words, with such a meaning to Alfred. No one had said the simple words to him in years; they were amazing, especially coming from the Brits soft looking lips. Alfred drifted off to sleep with that one picture in mind.

~The next morning~

To Alfred's great sadness Arthur didn't come to see him the next day, or the day after that. Not even the maid had come to see him, Alfred had been greatly saddened by this. He had been walking around more and more, the pain ebbing away more each day. He could return to work soon and get to see Arthur again! He could hardly wait for the next day, he had deemed himself fit for duty. As the sun rose on that day Alfred threw on his black pants, white collared up long sleeve shirt, vest, and blood red tie. He bolted out of his room at 6am, heading towards Arthur's study.

He entered through the large doors, his stomach twisting in anticipation. He looked over to see Arthur at his table, looking completely drained of all energy. Black bags were under his eyes as he bit on a pen cap, looking down thoughtfully at a sheet of paper.

"Good morning sir!" Alfred said cheerfully, Arthur jumped and fell out of his seat at the sudden noise, he hadn't seen the American enter the room.

"G-Good morning Alfred. Sorry, didn't see you there." Arthur quickly stood up and sat back in his seat.

"Are you alright sir? You look a bit..." Alfred didn't finish the sentence. Arthur sighed and nodded.

"Yes, yes. It's just..." Arthur looked deeply troubled, "France plans to declare war on Britain." he said slowly, Alfred let the news sink in, this was most definitely not a good thing. "They're all coming tomorrow, the prince, king, and all the bloody higher ups to discuss their terms. Alfred..." he looked up, "I might be at war soon." Alfred was speechless, so THAT was what was keeping him busy! "I can't even think about this, I just settled something with Spain and now we've lost lots of goods. And now, /another/ war threat," Arthur sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly, "England can't handle this…"

"Nah- I mean, no sir. I'm sure they'll reconsider." Alfred tried to reassure. He noticed Arthur looked tired beyond hell. "Sir, when was the last time you slept?" Alfred questioned, walking up the stairs to where Arthur sat.

"Umm, 2-no... 3 days?" he looked off into space, trying to recall the last time he'd slept.

"Sir!" Alfred said, amazed he could actually stay awake for that long, "You should sleep!" Arthur simply shook his head.

"No, I can't sleep now, if father caught me he would murder me." Arthur said tiredly. Alfred walked over and stood next to him.

"Stand up please sir?" Alfred half commanded. Arthur gave him a questioning look but did as he asked. Alfred plopped down on the big comfortable chair and pulled Arthur onto his lap. "Sleep, I'll wake you up if anyone comes in." Alfred said, Arthur blushed but shook his head.

"Alfred, I don't have time for this. I could be at war in a week." Arthur said, a bit cranky.

"You need sleep if you're going to meet the prince and king of France tomorrow. Sleep." Alfred said, wrapping his arms around the Brits waist. Arthur sighed but leaned back into his chest, letting his eyes finally slide shut and his head to bob to the side.

"Fine, but wake me up for lunch." he said, Alfred nodded, knowing there was no use to argue.

Arthur fell asleep almost immediately, going limp in the Americans arms. Alfred smiled and pulled him closer to himself. Alfred thought for a moment, would it be comfortable for his prince to sleep like this? 'Probably not…' Alfred thought, slowly re-positioning Arthur so he was cradling him, one of Alfred's arms were under his legs, the other wrapped around his shoulders. He brushed a lock of the prince's wheat blond hair out of his eyes, smiling happily down at the adorable little Brit.

He let Arthur sleep until 12pm, when he gently woke him up for lunch, which Arthur happily agreed to. The rest of the day went normally enough; Alfred was a clumsy ass as usual and knocked several things over. Arthur laughed at the clumsiness and returned to his work.

The next day was upon them before they knew it. Around mid day a large car arrived, the king was dressed I his deep royal blue robes that followed behind him in a flowing motion. Following the king, a boy around Arthur's age strutted out. The boy immediately caught Arthur's eye, with long blond hair that was pulled neatly back into a pony tail behind him with a blue ribbon, and a clear azure eyes that Arthur could tell were concealing something deep and dark. Arthur immediately despised him for reasons he couldn't describe. They all adjourned in the conference room, Arthur knew the first day was all meeting each other, silently hating the persons hand you were shaking.

The French prince walked up to Arthur and greeted him with a wide and innocent smile.

"Bonjour Prince Arthur! May I have the pleasure of calling you Arthur?" the silky Frenchman's voice asked, Arthur turned to face him and was about to say no but remembered this boy could decide if there was war or not.

"Of course, Prince Francis. My I have the pleasure of calling you Francis?" Arthur asked, hating the way the teens name rested on his tongue.

"Mon ami, of course you may!" the silky voice cheered, wrapping a skinny arm around Arthur's shoulders and pulling him close. Arthur wanted nothing more than to revolt from his touch but knew better, just barely restraining himself from punching the frog in the jaw. After the long meeting they walked out of the conference room, Francis's arm was now wrapped around Arthur's waist. Alfred looked at the two princes questioningly when they walked out of the room, a look of hurt on his eyes when he saw the two princes looked quite close. Arthur shot him a look saying 'Help, this frog is crazy!' Alfred understood and hurried off with an idea to separate the two.

"Mon ami, I would love to see your rose garden, it is infamous all around, especially in the country of love you know!" the voice was as smooth as honey; again Arthur wanted to punch him.

"Well you see, erm... That… Is a tad like a personal garden. Only I can enter it..." Arthur really didn't want this man near his roses, his perfect roses. Nor did he want any memories other than Alfred and he being in that garden.

"Oh, s'il vous plaît? Arthur, s'il vous plaît?" ((s'il vous plaît=please in French)) Arthur looked down sadly at his feet, that garden was his pride and joy, he spent hours there, hours with Alfred! He looked back up at Francis whom gave him big indigo puppy dog eyes, Arthur sighed.

"Of course you may see it, let me show you the way." Arthur said in defeat. The Frenchman smiled and hugged Arthur who quickly struggled away from the prince's tight and unwelcoming arms. "Yes yes, we'll come right this way." he said quickly, heading in the garden.

They walked through the maze of roses, when they reached the center of the garden Francis grinned widely and looked around, acting like a child in a candy shop.

"This is fantastique! Absolutely amazing!" he said in awe, "no one can see through the bushes here can they?" he asked, Arthur looked around, huh. At this time of year and after so many years it was true, the rose bushes were tall and dense enough to create a barrier between the two princes and the outside world. 'Just bloody great' Arthur thought sarcastically.

The Frenchman took Arthur's hand and pulled him down to sit next to him on the large marble bench in which Arthur and Alfred had shared so many wonderful conversations.

The Frenchman scooted closer and placed his hand on top of Arthur's. Arthur hardly had time to argue before the Frenchman leaned over and pressed his lips up against the Englishman's. Arthur tried to pull away but Francis put a hand on the back of his head, forcing Arthur to deepen the kiss. Arthur tried to open his mouth to yell and protest but only succeeded in letting the Frenchman's tongue slip into Arthur's own mouth. Francis's tongue searched Arthur's mouth as he leaned closer, crawling on top of the resisting Arthur. The Frenchman's legs straddled Arthur's hips as he remained on top of him, his tongue still searching the Brits mouth. The Frenchman's one free hand roamed up and down Arthur's side. Arthur knew there was a reason he would hate the man.

*clash*

The kiss was quickly broken when the two snogging boys jerked their heads apart to see where the loud noise had originated from. Alfred stood there, a platter of food and tea was now laying on the gardens floor, he stared at the two, unable to believe what he was seeing.

"Oh god, I'm uh...sorry, I'll leave now." Alfred said, quickly turning around to leave, a heavy tint of blush all over his face. Arthur attempted to push Francis off of him.

"Come mon cher, let him leave." Francis purred into Arthur's ear, however the Brit shoved roughly once more and succeeded in pushing the Frenchman off of him.

"I apologize, I must go, erm..." Arthur couldn't think of a good excuse to leave the Frenchman. "B-bathroom." he stammered, running out. The Frenchman sighed, being left behind.

"Alfred, Alfred!" Arthur called out, running to catch up with the obviously upset American.

"Yes sir?" he asked, turning around. Arthur wanted to bawl at the sad and empty look in the boys cerulean eyes.

"Alfred he forced me too, I swear!" Arthur didn't know why he felt the need to clarify his life with the American, but it felt necessary to tell him anyways.

"Sir, it is none of my business. You may love whomever you wish to, it has nothing to do with me." Alfred said emotionlessly, turning to walk away.

"Alfred I swear-" Alfred continued to walk away. "A-Alfred..." Arthur muttered sadly. He felt torn, that damned Frenchman! He walked back to Francis, his fists were balled up in anger.

"Prince Francis, that was NOT appropriate. If you wish to peacefully reside our war issues you will NOT be kissing me. And you will NOT do anything against my will, are we understood?" Arthur said to the Frenchman. Francis looked shocked but then stood up and walked towards Arthur.

"Mon cher, was that jealousy I saw in that butlers eyes?" he asked, putting an arm around Arthur's waist and completely ignoring what Arthur had just said.

"What?! No it was no- get OFF of me Prince Francis!" Arthur put his hands on the Frenchman's chest and used all of his power to shove away from the man. Arthur stomped out of the garden and away from a grinning Francis.

Arthur spent the rest of the day looking for Alfred, who, he found no sign of. He began to worry that the boy had left when finally at 9:30pm he found the boy wandering around the humongous maze behind the palace.

"Alfred, please listen to me-" Arthur called out, racing after him. He grabbed the Americans arm, Alfred quickly shook his hands off his arm and looked at him with the same sad expression.

"It's late sir, I suggest you retire for the night." Alfred refused to say anything else as he walked out of the huge maze and into his room. Arthur felt like sobbing, he had no idea why, which angered him even further. Alfred was far too fast and hurt for Arthur to do anything at the moment. The Brit fell asleep that night, thoughts of how he would apologize and persuade Alfred not to hate him for a kiss, a forced awful one at that!

Meanwhile Alfred tossed his shirt on the ground, frustrated at everything, why the buttons on his freaking shirt just couldn't come undone quickly as he wanted them to, why he had gotten lost in a freaking maze for most of the day, why his room was wayyy to cold, why Arthur kissed that frog-. Alfred frowned at the thought of the Frenchman. Of course, Arthur was a prince, as was the Frenchman, they were the perfect match. Plus, with something like that war could be avoided, this was a good thing. But Alfred was filled with nothing but anger and sadness as he crawled into bed and slowly drifted off to sleep.

~the next day~

Arthur got up early that morning to attend the important meeting the next morning, already dreading seeing the Frenchman again. He walked to the conference room and the meeting began, it lasted the entire freaking day to Arthur's great dislike. And finally at 8:15pm the meeting ended and Arthur was released from the room.

He walked back to his room tiredly, figuring he would talk to Alfred tomorrow when he wasn't as tired. He entered his room, and was surprised to feel a rough hand yank him in his room and throw him on the bed. He heard the door slam loudly behind him, and the soft 'click' of the lock. When Arthur turned to see who had done it he was rather hoping to see a certain American but his eyes met with Francis's azure orbs that shone madly as the moonlight that seeped through the curtains hit his eyes. The Frenchman turned fully towards Arthur and grinned madly.

"Prince Francis, what in god's name are you doing?!" he demanded to know, his question was answered by a rough pair of lips pressed up against his.

"No words, mon cher." he whispered roughly against Arthur's lips, he shoved Arthur on the bed and quickly crawled on top of him, pinning his arms above his head with one hand.

"Let me go!" Arthur demanded, struggling as hard as he could, but the Frenchman was much too strong. He just chuckled and let his lips trace along Arthur's jaw line and to his neck, where he bit it roughly. Arthur gasped in pain and continued to struggle, "Francis, get the bloody hell OFF of me right now!" he demanded, in reply, Francis's free hand started to undo the buttons of Arthur's plain white dress shirt. Francis's hand roamed up the Brits body, taking in every curve, his nails digging down Arthur's side as he kissed him roughly, Arthur tried to bite him but the Frenchman seemed to be used to the tricks of getting free of rape. He avoided Arthur's teeth and bit the Brits ear not too softly.

Francis's hand slid up Arthur's front, his hands clawing over his front, Arthur gasped in pain. "f-Francis, s-stop r-right n-n-now!" he demanded, wanting to kill the Frenchman by this point. However it became obvious the Frenchie had no intention of stopping. Arthur grew more and more fearful, "Alfred, Alfred!" Arthur shouted out, he had no idea why only Alfred came to his mind, but he kept screaming it, "ALFRED!" the Frenchman laughed as he took off his own tie, using it to tie Arthur's hands above his head.

"Mon cher, there is no way he can hear you all the way from the garden, where I told him to wait for the both of us. There we shall announce we are lovers." Arthur paled, his entire frame already shaking slightly.

"ALFRED, PLEASE!" he shouted, the Frenchman chucked and kissed the Brit roughly. He quickly unbuttoned the Brit's shirt, kissing and biting Arthur's body all over, Arthur gasped and sobbed, begging for Francis to stop. Tears were streaming down the Brits face, "F-Francis, F-Francis, please p-p-please stop this!" he begged, still struggling weakly as the Frenchie pulled off his own shirt and went for Arthur's pants line. Arthur sobbed as he felt his black pants being pulled to his feet and discarded somewhere in the room. Arthur was still pinned down, now just in his underwear.

There was a knock on the door.

"Umm, sir. I've kinda been in that rose garden for like, hours. Are you almost ready and do you know where my master is?" the angelic voice of Alfred came under the cracks in the door.

"ALFRED! H-HELP!" Arthur shouted at the top of his lungs before Francis put a hand over his mouth.

"Hush!" the Frenchman whispered.

"Sir?!" a very concerned American voice shouted through the locked door. "Sir, are you in there?" the Frenchmen scowled but quickly replied.

"My imitation of the Brit is pretty good, no?" Arthur felt tears run down his face.

"Y-Yeah, you freaked me out a bit." Alfred replied shakily through the door. One of the Frenchman's hands were holding Arthur's above his head, the other was placed over Arthur's mouth. Arthur whimpered and struggled, he heard Alfred slowly begin to walk away. Arthur bit Francis's hand as hard as humanly possible, he yanked his hand back and yelped in pain.

"A-ALFRED, H-HELP PLEASE!" he shouted, the Frenchman scowled.

"Arthur?!" came the same worried voice.

"YES, HELP, HE-" he was cut off by the Frenchman's hand yet again covering his mouth.

"Shut it!" he hissed, before replying, "w-wow Alfred, you sure get unnerved when I act like him, do you not?" thank god Alfred didn't take the bait.

"Open this door." he commanded, Arthur was sobbing loudly, Alfred finally heard a hint of the terror racked sobs.

"You are not in charge of me." Francis replied. The door handle jiggled, Alfred clearly trying to open the door.

"If my master is in there than I DO have the jurisdiction, open this door." Alfred tried to remain calm.

"Master? Last time I checked you were staring at him being his back like he was a god! I would say wannabe lover is the more fitting words choice!" the Frenchman shouted, slipping one finger underneath Arthur's boxers line.

Praise the lord the American was strong, he put his entire body weight into slamming into the door, after three hits it burst open and Alfred stumbled into the room. He took one look at what was going on and bolted over to the bed, decking the Frenchman in the jaw, sending him flying off of Arthur who was sobbing, shaking violently out of pure fear. Alfred quickly yanked the restraints off of him and pulled the Brit to his feet, pulling him as humanly close as possible to his body, ignoring the fact that the Brit was 90% naked. Arthur snuggled inside of the Americans heavy coat, which he had been wearing due to the chilling weather. Alfred tightly wrapped the Brit up close to him before retuning his attention to the Frenchman who was stumbling to his feet.

"Out.. Before I hit you so hard, you will NEVER have a recognizable face." Alfred hissed in the direction of the angry Francis. Arthur was looking at the Frenchman fearfully, as he sobbed into Alfred's shoulder. The Frenchman looked like he was about to say something but refrained from it.

"I get what I want, I always do." the Frenchie hissed before walking out of the room. Alfred looked down at his prince who was shaking so bad Alfred could feel it, the boy's eyes were closed tightly and he was clinging onto Alfred's jacket for dear life.

Alfred picked the trembling Brit up and carried him to the bed, he hopped under the warm duvet covers with him, Arthur really hadn't given him a choice, he had been clinging onto Alfred so tightly. Alfred opened and closed his mouth several times, debating if he should say something. He smiled at the Brit, all he could see was hit head of bright blond hair, his face was hidden in Alfred's jacket. Alfred pulled the prince closer, running his hands through Arthur's soft hair.

Arthur pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his knees, removing his arms from Alfred. He weakly pulled the covers over his head, wanting to disappear. Alfred looked down, a bit shocked at what the boy was mentally requesting.

"Y-You c-can go n-now." Arthur whispered, his voice hoarse from yelling and sobbing at once. Alfred looked down at him sadly.

"But I don't want to." Alfred replied quietly.

"..." Arthur said nothing, continuing to keep his distance from the American.

"Sir, I had no idea or I would or been here sooner, I would have believed you. I'm so sorry." Alfred whispered, wishing he could have his happy prince back. Arthur remained silent, just wanting him to go so no one would have to see him so weak. Alfred slowly wrapped his arms around the Brit; Arthur hesitantly moved closer, his back pressed up against Alfred's chest. Alfred grabbed Arthur's hand and held it gently, his fingers tracing patterns on the boy's palm.

The moon shown through the huge windows, the bright white light shown down on the two boys snuggled close together under the duvet. Alfred couldn't help but to think about how absolutely astounding the prince looked with the white glow of the full moon illuminating his every feature, outlining his jaw line, his long blond eyelashes. Alfred loved how the shadow of his own hair covered one of the boys eyes which were opened slightly to reveal his pupils were still shaking, his eyes showed every emotion he had; fear, horror, terror, how he would never be able to sleep knowing Francis could be near him.

"I'll stay here and make sure no one comes in, alright?" Alfred asked, Arthur slowly nodded before absentmindedly bringing a hand to his neck. Alfred noticed bite marks covering the beautiful pale skin of his neck. Alfred really really wanted to torture then kill the bastard that hurt Arthur that badly. "Do they hurt?" Alfred asked, already knowing the answer. Arthur slowly nodded. Alfred leaned down and very gently pressed his lips up against the forming bruises. Arthur's eyes fluttered shut, he actually liked the feeling if the Americans lips. They were soft, not chapped, they didn't go anywhere he didn't want them to, they were slow and perfect; completely unlike Francis's. Arthur really didn't want it to stop and he didn't.

Alfred slowly found every bite mark and kissed each one multiple times slowly, Arthur found himself shivering it felt so good. Alfred moved to the deep, red scratch marks that were down Arthur's back, he pulled away from Arthur slightly to get a better access. He sure hoped Arthur was enjoying this as much as he was. Arthur gasped slightly as the Americans tongue traced lightly down each claw mark, the pain magically leaving the second any part of Alfred touched it. When he was done with the scratches he pulled Arthur closer to him again, hugging the Brit.

"Feel any better?" Alfred asked, the Brit nodded slowly, already feeling sleep claiming him. He was sleeping next to an amazingly hot, sexy and stupendous American that had just licked and kissed his entire torso and neck, and it had been one of the best feelings of his life. He slowly drifted off on the safe warm arms.

Alfred remained awake the entire night, making sure the awful Frenchman didn't dare return.

Author's Note: Yay, I love this, well, not the almost rape part but you guys get the idea. Alfie and Artie are sooooo cute~~~. So… thanks for reading and PLEASE comment, it makes me sooooo happy.


	4. Screw the French, let's go party

Author's Note: Yay, so from here on, I haven't written it yet, so expect a bit longer updates, but other than that, soon you'll get to meet new characters!

Oh, and there's lemonade in this, and I say lemonade because I think lemonade is love, and lemon is sex, this thought just occurred to me last night sooooo, yeah. So here ja go!

Please feel free—no, mother fucking comment. Dudes, if you're reading my stories, it seriously means the world for you to comment, say whatever you thought. So please, comment!

Chapter 4 Screw the French, let's go party.

Finally morning came around and Arthur's eyes slowly opened and looked up at Alfred, who had been cocooning him all night, rocking him back and forth and keeping a careful watch on the door.

"Good morning sir." Alfred said happily, a small smile ebbed onto the princes face just at the sight of the American.

"Good morning." Arthur replied, realizing he was still snuggled up against the Americans chest, the boys muscular arms wrapped protectively around the Brit. 'More like great morning' both boys thought at the same time, though neither dared to say it. Arthur slowly remembered last night and shivered, moving closer to the now blushing Alfred. They both lay there for a moment, absorbing the others heat, Arthur remembered he had somewhere to be. "Bloody hell, I'm late!" Arthur almost shouted, jumping out of bed and retrieving his cloths. Alfred watched as the Brit shoved his arms and legs through the clothing, his hands were shaking so badly he couldn't do the buttons on his shirt and Alfred hopped out of the bed to assist. The Americans hands quickly pushed the buttons through the holes, helping the Brit dress.

Arthur walked out of the room and headed towards the conference room, Alfred right behind him.

"The second you get out of the room I'll be there, we can go to your rose garden, alright?" Alfred said, knowing how awful it will be for Arthur to be forced in the same room with the Frenchie. Arthur nodded and put his hand on the door knob.

"Thank you Alfred." he whispered before walking into the room. "Sorry I'm late everyone." he apologized, taking his seat at the end of the table, the Frenchman stood up and took a seat next to Arthur whom scooted as far away as humanly possible on his small seat, sitting on the edge of it, prepared to bolt when the meeting ended.

Halfway through the day a small break was convened, Arthur tried to stand up but was stopped by a hand on his leg. Arthur gave a death glare to the prince but the Frenchman paid no attention, his hand roaming further up Arthur's leg. Arthur shoved the hand roughly off of him, standing up and walking over to his father, desperate to escape the perverted man.

Ten minutes later the meeting reconvened, the second it did the Frenchman stood up.

"Everyone, I have an announcement to make," his honey smooth voice purred, everyone's attention turned towards him, "There is one way we can avoid war!" everyone perked up at the sound of the declaration.

"And what would that be?" Arthur's father asked apprehensively.

"Marriage!" everyone remained where they were seated, "S'il vous plaît everyone, hear me out. If Arthur and I were to marry, war could be avoided and we could have a very strong alliance."

"No way in hell!" Arthur exclaimed, banging his hands down on the table and rising to his feet in a fit of anger.

"Mon ami's, I do rather like this idea." the king of France said calmly. Arthur was shaking the thought was so repulsive.

"I must agree with my son, this idea is out of the question." Arthur's father said calmly, his expression never wavering.

"Mon ami's, it is marriage or war, your pick." both the Frenchman said at the exact same time. Arthur looked at his father beggingly, silently pleading for his father to fix it. The older Brit looked terribly confused, having no idea what to do. There was the worst god damn silence in the world.

"It seems..." the king began slowly, "My son is now engaged." Arthur looked at him in horror. The younger Frenchman stood up and walked to Arthur, planting a kiss on the boy's forehead.

"NO!" Arthur shouted, angry beyond belief. He knew that Alfred was on the other side of the door, and he had heard it all. "I will NOT marry such a FROG!"

"ARTHUR!" the king shouted, silencing the Brit. Arthur was shaking he was so blinded with both fury and fear. Arthur looked at all of them, shaking with rage. He stomped out of the room, wanting to be with Alfred.

He slammed the doors open and sprinted to his garden, Alfred on his heels. Arthur made it to the center of his garden before sitting down on the cold marble bench, putting his head in his hands, trying not to sob. Alfred approached him a minute later, immediately sitting down right next to him and putting the Brit close to his chest.

"Th-that bloody f-fucking f-f-frog!" Arthur said, curling up in Alfred's lap, burying his face in Alfred's shoulder. A few spare tears ran down the prince's face, though he quickly dashed them away. Alfred sat there with the curled up prince in his lap, running his hands through the princes hair. "He h-had that planned." Arthur said, calming down. He remained laying up against Alfred's chest, loving the scent of the American. "H-He bloody planned that." Alfred just slowly nodded, running his hands through the shaking Brits hair. "A-Alfred?" he asked in a childish voice, slowly looking up at the American.

"Yes sir?" Alfred looked into the terrified emerald green eyes.

"What do I do? I dun wanna marry him." Arthur lay his head up against Alfred's chest.

"Sir... I may have an idea, but you're free to say no if you don't like it." Alfred said quietly, hesitant to share his crazy idea, it was absolutely insane, by almost anyone's perspective.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, by this point pretty much open to anything.

"You could run away, I'll come too to make sure you stay safe." Alfred suggested, "Or not..." he added quickly, looking away hastily.

"I... I tried that a few months ago, before you came here. Do you think it would work?" Arthur asked, slowly absorbing the possibility, Alfred slowly nodded.

"I think we could do it." he said, Arthur nodded.

"Let's do it then!" Arthur said, sitting up a bit straighter and smiling, hope was now shining through, "But I have one condition."

"What would that be sir?"

"The second we leave this palace I am not Sir, I am Arthur, got it?" Arthur asked, Alfred smiled and nodded. Arthur slowly unfurled himself from Alfred and stood up. "Then meet me here in a hour." he said, quietly walking out of the garden and back to his room.

An hour passed in no time, Arthur rummaged through his closet and pulled out cloths that would match the world better, brown shorts, a white cotton tunic and a pair of brown boots good for running. He grabbed a few extra changes of cloths and a large amount of money before shoving it in a leather knapsack and heading towards the rose garden where Alfred waited.

They smiled at the sight of each other and began to walk to the front gate. They slipped under a small hole a wild animal had dug and they were off, free. Alfred was happy that he had such an amazing master.

"Where should we go?" Arthur asked.

"Anywhere, but we should get a horse or two so we can move faster." Alfred thought aloud, Arthur nodded slowly.

"I umm, have no idea how to ride a horse." he said sheepishly, Alfred smiled softly at the Briton.

"No problem, you can just ride behind me. It's easier that way anyways." Alfred said happily, Arthur nodded slowly. Alfred waved through the crowd of people despite the fact that it was clearly around midnight.

Alfred found a small shop on the corner of the town that sold horses. Arthur gave him the money and told him to buy whichever looked the healthiest. Alfred smiled and nodded, walking in the shop. He walked out a minute later with reins in his hand. The reins were followed up by a beautiful black horse, it's hair a silky dark gray color. Alfred hopped up on the saddle and offered Arthur a hand. Arthur slowly took it and was hoisted up, now sitting right behind Alfred.

"You should probably hang on si-Arthur, we'll be moving fast soon." Arthur almost didn't hear his words, he absolutely adored the way his name sounded on the boys lips. The horse broke into a trot and then a canter, Arthur jumped slightly and wrapped his arms tightly around Alfred's waist, holding on for dear life. Alfred seemed to know exactly what he was doing, guiding the horse across flat lands and towards small mountains off in the distance. They rode for hours, the moon had come and gone once but they refused to stop, knowing they needed to get as far away as possible from the palace before relaxing.

Idiotic horse. Arthur thought, he saw what was about to happen seconds before it did. A small rock almost invisible under the moons glare got caught under the horses hoofs causing Arthurs grip on Alfred to loosen as he was thrown off. Alfred himself barely managed to stay on, yanking at the reins, forcing the horse to stop.

Alfred jumped off of the horse and ran over to Arthur who was laying flat on his back, coughing, the breath knocked out of him.

"Arthur, are you alright?!" he asked, kneeling down next to Arthur and pulling him into a sitting position. Arthur winced as a sharp pain shot through his back.

"Ack!" Arthur yelped in pain, feeling like someone was shooting him in the spine. Alfred immediately became much more careful with the injured boy, letting him lean up against Alfred's shoulder as he regained his breath.

"God, retarded horse!" Alfred said angrily, seeing the already forming black bruises on Arthur's back. Arthur winced as Alfred ran a hand along his back. He slowly helped the boy to his feet and back onto the horse, this time in front of him so he was held on by Alfred's arms on each side of him, and so he could lean back on Alfred's chest.

Alfred made the horse move again, this time walking quickly. Arthur leaned up against Alfred, thankful for the warmth. It was quite cold out where they were. Arthur slowly fell asleep against Alfred. Alfred remained awake for yet another night (He had been up two nights already, one was riding with Arthur, the other was watching out for the Frenchman.). Arthur woke the next day to see the happy face of Alfred smiling down at him.

"Good morning Arthur!" he said joyfully, Arthur smiled.

"Good morning Alfred." he said back. Alfred made the horse stop, Arthur sat up again, having leaned on Alfred the previous night. Alfred noticed the beginning of bruises on his neck.

"Can I see your back?" Alfred asked, Arthur nodded and pulled his shirt up in the back so Alfred could see. Alfred looked down at the bruises sadly, the claw marks left from the Frenchman were still there as well. Alfred brought his lips to the top of the biggest bruise. Arthur gasped slightly at how amazing it felt.

"A-Alfred, you d-don't have to d-do t-that." Arthur shivered as Alfred's tongue slid out of his mouth to greet a bruise. Arthur moved closer, not wanting him to stop. Alfred's hands went to Arthur's front, rubbing along his bare stomach and feeling around his body, familiarizing himself with how Arthur's body felt.

Alfred brought his mouth up to Arthur's neck, finding a place where Francis's teeth had broken skin and left a circular black bruise. He placed his mouth over it and licked it gently. Arthur shivered out of pleasure. Alfred slowly let his teeth rest on the boys soft skin, not biting at all. Arthur whimpered in pleasure as Alfred's hands slid up to his bare chest, rubbing over his nipples, pinching them lightly.

"A-A-Alfred..." he moaned, Alfred absolutely adored how the Brit said his name. Arthur turned his head back to meet Alfred's. Alfred blushed violently but didn't stop, instead leaning forward and kissing the Brit softly, his lips barely leaving a trace. Arthur smiled, he loved the feel of Alfred's lips, they were polar opposites from the rough, awful Frenchman's.

Alfred pulled away, blushing vigorously at what he had just done to the boy. Arthur turned around so he was facing Alfred, Arthur's legs thrown over Alfred, their vital regions touching through the thick material of the pants they both wore. Arthur wrapped his arms around Alfred and pulled him in for another kiss, a bit deeper this time. Alfred's heart was overfilling with happiness as he pressed closer to Arthur. His tongue poked Arthur's bottom lip, Arthur whimpered and blushed, having almost no training in any sort of romantic things at all, however he hesitantly accepted Alfred's tongue in his mouth. Alfred's tongue poked at Arthurs, getting a small reaction as the Briton's own tongue poked his back. Arthur's hands roamed around Alfred's body, taking in the feeling of well toned arms and abs. God, Arthur never wanted this to stop.

Alfred slowly pulled away, both panting slightly.

"W-Wow." they both said at the same time, a string of saliva connecting their lips. Arthur's hands rested on Alfred's shoulders, Alfred's hands rested on Arthur's hips. Arthur blushed a bit and looked away, Alfred thought it was completely adorable and kissed his cheeks. Arthur blushed more but smiled, laying his head on Alfred's shoulder.

"The, umm... Horse needs to rest, let's find somewhere to stay." Alfred said awkwardly, blushing as the Brit hugged him tighter, their bodies pressed against one another. Arthur nodded and Alfred let the horse continue to walk until they were at the bottom of the mountain, where trees and a small steam scattered the place. Alfred helped Arthur off of the horse and walked the heaving horse over to the stream and letting him drink, tying the reins to a tree branch.

Arthur couldn't help but to shiver at the chilly weather, Alfred smiled sweetly at the cute Brit and walked over, sitting behind him and sitting criss cross, pulling the boy onto his lap. Arthur blushed slightly but snuggled into Alfred's chest, absorbing the warmth. Arthur pulled away slowly to look into Alfred's eyes, smiling happily. This was SO much better than that damned Frenchman. Alfred pulled Arthur in for another gentle kiss, making sure that his amazing Brit loved it as much as Alfred did.

Arthur smiled against the boys lips when Alfred's tongue pressed lightly against his lip. Arthur quickly opened his mouth, inviting Alfred's tongue into his mouth and almost instantly letting the Americans tongue dominate his mouth. Alfred slowly moved his hand to the hem of Arthur's shirt, sliding his hand up the silky material and feeling Arthur's stomach and chest. Arthur blushed harshly, not used to someone touching him like Alfred was. He almost felt embarrassed to have someone as strong and muscled as Alfred feel how scrawny Arthur was. Alfred could tell about Arthur's hesitation and began to slide his hand out of Arthur's shirt. Arthur whimpered in protest, their mouths never disconnecting.

Alfred smiled slightly and ran his hand back up Arthur's sides, almost able to feel the boys ribs. He felt bad knowing Arthur had worked so long and hard at the palace that he hardly had time to eat. Alfred pinched Arthur's nipples, earning a small whimper of pleasure from Arthur. Alfred smiled, he had an idea.

He slowly broke away from the Brit, standing up and picking up Arthur in the process, Arthur jumping slightly but wrapped his legs around Alfred's waist and hanging onto his neck. Alfred sadly knew that his idea would work best when neither of them were injured(you know what he's thinking). He slowly let Arthur stand up, earning a pout from the Brit. He smiled.

"Relax Arthur, let's just wait until we don't have to look over our back." Alfred said, untying the reins and hopping on the horse, pulling Arthur up behind him.

They rode most of the day in complete silence, most of the long chilly day they had been forced to walk due to freezing ground and the fact that they were going up a mountain. Arthur had been wondering what Alfred had in store, it was obvious he was still planning it himself. Arthur finally remembered that Alfred hadn't slept in two days but kept silent, knowing the stubborn American would refuse sleep until nighttime.

The sun finally fell and Alfred hopped off of the horse, letting Arthur hop into his arms off of the horse. Alfred tied up the horse and went digging through the saddle bags until he found the small tent and sleeping bag he had packed.

He quickly set up the tent and tossed the sleeping bag inside, walking back out to find Arthur had gathered sticks and was starting a fire. Alfred smiled and helped as well, piling up sticks and lighting it with matches Alfred had brought. They cooked out a bunny that Alfred had caught and ate in silence, Arthur curled up next to Alfred and laying up against him.

After dinner Alfred and Arthur stomped the fire out, both a bit eager to get in the small tent, and the one small sleeping bag they would have to share. They crawled into the tent and then the sleeping bag. Arthur looked at the tired Alfred.

"Alfred, you should probably sleep. I know you haven't in a while." Arthur said, even though his body was practically screaming out for Alfred. The dirty blond shook his head and rolled on top of Arthur, earning a little gasp as Alfred planted his lips against the Brits.

Alfred's kisses were quick, deep, and lust filled. Arthur smiled sheepishly as he felt the Americans hands slowly pull Arthur's shirt over his head, Alfred did the same with his shirt. Arthur blushed and covered his bare chest with his arms, even though he knew that Alfred and seen him shirtless before, it was a bit intimidating for such a handsome and muscled boy see him shirtless. Alfred chuckled at how cute he was and quickly pried the boys arms away from his chest, his lips trailing down to Arthur's neck, collarbone, and down to his nipples. Arthur gasped and moaned when Alfred ran his tongue over Arthur's left nipple. He shuddered as Alfred sucked on it slowly, his other hand toying with Arthur's right nipple.

Alfred's mouth returned to Arthur's as he reached down and slowly eased Arthur's pants off. Arthur blushed but did nothing to stop the motion, Alfred took his pants off as well. Both boys were now out of the sleeping bag, laying on top of the cool material. Arthur let out a small gasp as Alfred grinder into him, both boys now in their boxers. Alfred slowly eased his hands down to the line of Arthur's boxers, slowly easing them down. Arthurs hands reached for Alfred's boxers, yanking them down to his feet and pulling them off.

Alfred moved down, taking Arthur's hard member into his hands and stroking it slowly. Arthur gasped, resisting the urge to buck his hips forward. Alfred lowered his head, his tongue slipping out of his mouth to greet the tip of Arthur's member. He teased the boys cock, licking it up and down lightly, his hands playing with his balls.

Alfred took Arthur's member into his mouth, which Arthur moaned loudly to, his fingers bunching up in the material of the sleeping bag. "Nhh...ahh. A-Alfred." he moaned, bucking his hips forward. Alfred looked up at him, loving the look of lust on his face. Arthur whipped his head back as Alfred bobbed up and down, his tongue swirling around Arthur's member.

Alfred slowly returned to kissing Arthur, he stopped for a moment. "Arthur, by any chance are you a virgin?" Alfred asked, Arthur blushed furiously and looked away, mumbling a yes. Alfred felt amazingly happy that Arthur trusted him to this extent.

Alfred smiled softly and offered three fingers in Arthur's mouth. "Suck on these." he commanded, Arthur happily obliged and took them into his mouth, licking them thoroughly. Alfred pulled them out of the boys mouth and placed him at Arthur's entrance. "Let me know if you want me to stop." he said, leaning in to kiss Arthur as he pushed one finger inside of Arthur. Arthur gasped and tried to pull away from the sudden pain. "Don't tense up." Alfred said quietly, stopping for a moment to let Arthur get used to the feeling.

"I-I'm not." he said, looking away and blushing. Alfred pushed the finger in again, receiving a gasp. He slowly pushed the one finger in and out before slowly sliding a second in. "Ahh... Nhhhh" Arthur moaned as Alfred moved them around, searching for Arthur's sweet spot. Alfred scissored his fingers, trying to loosen the exceedingly tight boy. "Alfr- AAHH!" Arthur moaned loudly as Alfred's fingers brushed up against the delicate bundle of nerves. Alfred pressed a third finger in, rubbing over the sweet spot over and over again. Alfred took Arthur's member into one hand again, still fingering him with the other and slowly licked some of the pre cum off. "A-Alfred! J-just put i-it in!" Arthur begged as his toes curled and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Alfred didn't need to be told twice, he removed his fingers and moved back up, placing a kiss on the panting Brits lips. He positioned himself in front of him and slid half inside of him, earning a loud gasp and whimper of pain from Arthur.

"G-god Alfred. H-how is it all g-going to f-fit?!" Arthur asked, realizing how massive Alfred's cock was. Arthur took deep and slow breaths as little tears formed in the corners of his eyes, Alfred paused, leaning down to kiss the tears away. He waited until Arthur nodded and grabbed the Briton's hips, pushing all the way in. "Ahhnnn!" Arthur moaned, throwing his head back, trying to adjust to the member.

After a moment of silence, Alfred spoke up. "Can I go?" he asked, Arthur slowly nodded. Alfred pulled out and shoved back in, causing Arthur to moan his name loudly. Alfred leaned in, kissing his prince slowly.

After a few more slow and soft thrusts, Arthur broke, "A-Alfred, harder!" he begged, Alfred didn't need to be told twice. He shoved in and out of Arthur, finding a good rhythm, Arthur moaned loudly, gripping onto Alfred tightly. Alfred grabbed the Brit's legs, throwing them over his shoulders and sucking on the skin of his inner thighs. Finally Alfred dead on hit the Brit's prostate and Arthur moaned loudly, throwing his head back and seeing stars. Alfred rammed into him again and again, hitting that one spot over and over, causing Arthur to scream each time, begging him to go harder.

"God Artie, you're so tight!" Alfred half yelled-half moaned, slamming into his prostate again, earning another loud moan and sloppy kiss.

Arthur blushed even more, if that was possible and moaned once more as Alfred grabbed his hips, Arthur thrusting his forward to meet with an exceedingly hard thrust.

"A-Alfred, t-touch me, please!" he begged, Alfred took one of his hands off of the boys hip and placed it on Arthur's cock, rubbing it up and down quickly, squeezing it and earning another scream, "Fuck Alfred!" Arthur screamed, not caring how loud he was, or how desperate he sounded. It felt good, sooo good.

Alfred moaned, Arthur was so tight, he'd never felt anything so good. He eagerly complied to Arthur's whishes, slamming into him with so much force that the tent was rocking with them. "Fuck Artie… So good, you're so good." Alfred moaned deeply.

The was enough to put Arthur over the edge, "A-Alfred, I'm g-gonna-" Arthur cried out his lovers name loudly in amazement.

"Come for me Artie." Alfred whispered into his ear, Arthur came all over his and Alfred's abdomens. With one or two final thrusts and a deep moan Alfred released inside of Arthur. Alfred pulled out of him and lay down next to the boy, watching as cum dripped out of the Brit as he pulled him closer and kissed him lightly.

"I love you." Alfred said quietly. Arthur looked up at him in surprise.

"I love you too." Arthur replied, quickly falling asleep in the Americans arms. Alfred smiled, Arthur had finally said those words to him, ones he had needed to hear for quite a while, so he knew that someone loved him. He snuggled both of them into a sleeping bag and quickly fell asleep holding the sleeping Brit.


	5. Cowboy Alfred and Company

Chapter 5 Cowboy Alfred and Company

Alfred woke at the crack of dawn, the sun shining through the thin material of the tent. He yawned and looked over, his eyes finding Arthur curled up against his chest. Alfred remembered last night and his face quickly became covered in a deep blush, the vague memory of the prince calling out his name and arching his back. Alfred had never seen anyone's back arch in such a way, but was thrilled to have the prince in his grasp. He placed a light kiss on Arthur's forehead and smiled at the cute scene. Arthur's emerald eyes blinked open, he yawned a cute little yawn and stretched.

"Good morning." Alfred said happily, Arthur looked over at the American, the memories of last night flooding into his head and replaying over and over.

"Good morning." Arthur said back, smiling up at him cheerfully. Alfred placed a hand over his mouth and yawned, slowly wiggling his way out of the sleeping bag and shivering as the cold morning winds greeted his naked self. He looked around, collecting his clothing and sliding it on quickly, savoring the warmth. Arthur watched him with fascination, looking all over his perfect body.

Arthur sat up as well, letting the sleeping bag pool to his waist as he reached for his cloths as well. He stepped his shirt on, buttoning it up quickly to escape the cold. H shoved his underwear and pants into the sleeping bag, putting them on under the heated bag. Finally Arthur slipped out of the bag and hopped out of the tent after Alfred, slipping his boots on and lacing them up.

Alfred began to undo the tent, quickly packing it up and tying it to the horse. He swung his leg up and over. Jumping on the horse and offering a hand to The Brit, who grabbed his hand tightly and swung his leg over the horse, sitting closely behind Alfred and wrapping his arms around his waist. He winced a bit, his arse a bit sore. He was glad Alfred didn't see him wince, he would blame himself. Arthur sighed happily and rested his chin on the Americans shoulders. Before commanding the horse to walk, Alfred twisted his head back, capturing Arthur's lips with his own and holding the prince for one lingering and slow kiss.

Arthur smiled adorably when Alfred finally pulled back. He had always loved those type of kisses, the slow, close mouthed, chaste ones.

"Alrighty, lets get to riden'!" Alfred said cheerfully, kicking the horses side and urging him to walk, trot, then canter. Arthur tightened his grip on Alfred, bobbing up and down with Alfred and the horse. They rode for what seemed like days, but was only a few hours in reality. They stopped for lunch and to let the horse rest at mid day, but other than that they kept riding, they went between cantering and walking to let the horse rest. Both Alfred and Arthur knew that the entire British army, scouts, everybody was searching for the young prince, they had no time to rest.

*three days later*

Three long, riding filled days later, Alfred and Arthur were convinced they were far enough away for the time being. They had crossed a large mountain, and barely escaped a major blizzard, so with luck, the king would assume they'd never be crazy enough to take the route they took during winter, and look elsewhere. Now they approached a small town, their horse was panting heavily and refusing to do anything but walk.

"This looks as good as anywhere to stay for a while, right Artie?" Alfred asked, turning his head back to look at the Brit. Arthur nodded looking around the small town. All the buildings were made of old and splintering wood. Sand coated every surface, and any signs that may have existed were either holding on by one hinge, or were face down on the ground. But despite that all, the few people that were walking were smiling and cheerful looking. Every person had smiles on their faces and were talking to the person next to them. It was a comfortable feeling little town.

Alfred urged the horse to walk to what seemed like a stable and dismounted, helping Arthur down as well. Even though he didn't really need it. Alfred walked in the old place, talking to the tall man behind the counter. His eyebrows were slightly thick, and on close inspection Arthur could tell one of his eyes was blue, and the other was green. The man had light blond hair that came down to his upper back. He was wearing a kind smile when Alfred walked in the shop.

"Hello, my name is Cadan, how may I help you today?" He asked kindly, keeping the happy smile on his face.

((A/N: oh, Cadan is Cornwall just in case you guys don't know, he's totally epic.))

"Hey," Alfred said, equally cheerful, "I have a horse that needs a place to stay till me and my partner leave town. You have a place for 'em?" Alfred asked, Arthur was impressed how quickly Alfred had slipped into a different accent, giving off the hint he had never been near anyone with a proper language knowledge. It was a good cover up.

"Yes, of course." The Cornish man said, walking out from behind the counter and outside with Alfred. "This is he?" Cadan asked, motioning towards the horse. Alfred nodded.

"Yep, that him. His names Castro." Alfred reached in his pocket, searching for the bronze coins. His fingers wrapped around three of them and he pulled them out. "I s'pose this will do?" The American asked, Cadan quickly nodded, marveling at the large amount for nothing more than somewhere for a horse to stay.

"Yes, that'll be perfect." The Cornish man said, holding his hand out and letting Alfred drop them in his hand before pocketing him. "And I assume you're his partner?" Cadan asked, turning to Arthur, who simply nodded. Arthurs accent was thick, and he had no obligation to give out the hint he himself was anywhere near royalty. Cadan accepted this offer, nodding and grinning at him. "Well, I can take him from here. Come by and fetch him whenever you'd like." The man said, taking Castro's reins and guiding the horse inside and in one of the stalls with a final wave to the two.

"Alright, shall we find a place to stay?" Alfred asked, turning back to Arthur and holding up the supplies he had gathered off of Castro before departing with the horse. Arthur simply nodded and locked his arm in Alfred's, walking close to him and resting his head on the Americans shoulder.

Soon the two came upon an old looking hotel with three stories. Alfred sighed, "This is good enough." He said, pushing the door open and walking in, Arthur on his heels.

"Hey bastards, Antonio's motel. Stay for a night or two, then get the fuck out." We're the first words that greeted their ears as they entered the small but comfortable looking motel. Arthur looked over behind the counter, taking in the view of the person who'd used the vulgar language. The teen, as Arthur speculated considering he himself didn't look much older than Alfred, was a mid-height man with a thick and grumpy Italian accent. He had deep caramel hair and an abstract curl that stuck up randomly, bouncing slightly when he moved. He had deep hazel eyes which held a certain air of annoyance in them. He was dressed in simple jeans and a grey tee-shirt reading, "Too sexy to handle."

"What a greetin'!" Alfred said merrily in his now suddenly thick cowboy accent, "Howdy there partner!" He said, waltzing over to the counter and propping himself up with one elbow. "As a matter o' fact, my partner and I are lookin for a place to stay, you got us covered?" He asked, giving off one of his childlike smiles and a chuckle.

((Cowboy Alfieeeeeee~~~~~~))

Antonio, as the motel was named and Arthur assumed that was the Italians name, raised an inquisitive eyebrow to the American, but shrugged and nodded. "I do, hold on, the owner'll be here in a fucking minute." He mumbled, tapping his fingers on the desk. 'Oh,' Arthur thought, 'So his name isn't Antonio.'

Alfred nodded, leaning up against the podium and waiting patiently. Soon enough a cheery looking teen skipped in, his skin was darker than the Italians, and his eyes were a bright emerald, similar to Arthur's, only his held much more joy and carelessness. And his hair was a dark brown mess, it went all over the place.

"Hola mi amigos!" He said cheerfully, walking behind the podium and leaning down to peck the grumpy Italians cheek, who quickly cussed at him and dashed it away with the back of his hand, blushing brightly. "I'm Antonio, and I assume you two are lookin' for a place to stay?" The cheerful Spaniard asked, looking at the two travelers.

"Yep!" Alfred said, glancing over at Arthur and grinning loosely, as if saying, "Like my cowboy imitation?" To which Arthur expression wise replied with, "In your dreams."

"Well come right this way, we have pretty much any room available." He said, pulling a pair of keys out of his pocket and beginning to walk down the long hallway, each footstep he took set an entire new chorus of creaky floorboards into action. Finally the three people arrived at the end of the hall, Antonio shoved a pair of keys into the lock, swinging the door open and motioning for the two to walk in.

Arthur had to admit he was surprised, it was a lot nicer than he'd of thought based on the entire motels decor, the wood floor was mostly covered by a worn down but comfy looking Persian rug, and the walls were a light blue. A nice looking chandelier hung from the navy blue ceiling and the even the door itself was a nice white, non chipped door. There was a single master bed in the center of the room, with fluffy looking duvet covers and pillows, and a bedside table that held a simple lamp and a small pile of books.

"Awesome!" Alfred said, taking one, then two steps inside then looking around.

"So this room'll do?" Antonio asked, to which both Alfred and Arthur nodded to quickly. "Bien, so if you have any problems you can call me or Lovi, that's the cute little Italian up front, and we'll be here in a snap, alright?" the cheery Spaniard said, bidding the two farewell before stepping out and walking down the hall.

Alfred smiled and nodded, giving him a quick farewell before closing the door and dropping his and Artie's bags to the floor. "We should be good here for a while, no one would be stupid enough to think we crossed King's mountain during the fall." Alfred said, going to sit on the bed and stretch his arms over his head.

Arthur nodded, "I hope so, I don't want to leave here anytime soon. It's peaceful." He said, walking over to the bed. He was about to sit down next to Alfred when he felt said lover place his hands on his hips and guide him onto his lap. He let out a squeak of surprise but smiled sheepishly up at the American. Alfred snaked his arms around the prince's waist, hugging him close to him and setting his chin on his head, humming happily.

The two sat there for a moment, simply enjoying each other's company. But as we all know, Alfred isn't known for peace.

Slowly the American had a plan form in his head. Slowly, he leaned down and kissed the Brit's neck, earning said Brit to stiffen up visibly upon feeling the lips up against his sensitive skin. The American smiled and kissed his neck again, slowly bringing his tongue out to lick his neck. "A-Alfred…" Arthur mumbled, turning so he was facing him. Arthur had one leg on either side of Alfred's hips, and was now straddling him. He linked his arms around Alfred's neck and smiled at him happily.

Alfred smiled back, having to lean up slightly to kiss him. Their lips connected and Alfred growled happily in the back of his throat, earning a whimper from Arthur. Alfred fell back onto the bed, Arthur on top of him. The American flipped them quickly, holding himself up over Artie so he wouldn't crush him as they continued to kiss. Alfred licked Arthur's lower lip, earning another whimper as he felt the Brit's mouth open hesitantly. The honey blond's hands ran up and down Arthur's sides, sliding his tongue into his mouth and searching around, earning a small moan from the Briton. Finally the two broke apart, both gasping for air. Alfred smiled down happily at Arthur before rolling off of him, the Brit immediately cuddled closer.

"Hey Alfie?" Arthur asked, looking up at the American. Alfred smiled at the shortened and adorable use of his name.

"Hm?" He asked, smiling softly into the Brit's emerald eyes.

"I love you." Arthur whispered, blushing brightly at his own words but held his gaze. Alfred chuckled, he was so CUTE.

"I love you too." Alfred replied quietly, leaning down to peck the Englishmen's cheek. Arthur made a content little humming sound as he cuddled closer to the American and slowly drifted off in his arms.

Author's Note: Yay, another chapter out. So yeah, from now on, you're going to be seeing more characters in here, if you're really dying to see a character in here, just comment and let me know, because I only have a rough sketch for how this story will end, so I can have almost any character!

Please comment, it makes my life complete~!


	6. Whatever it takes to protect him

Author's Note:  So this'll be sweet and simple, anyone who asked for a pairing, they'll be added!~ also, my gMail whacked out and deleted a few of my comments, so if you don't see your pairing within the next two or so chapters, just comment "Hurry the fuck up with my AusHun (or whatever you want)" It'll motivate me.

Alright, thanksie's in advance for reading and COMMENTING.

Chapter 6  Whatever it takes to protect him

Alfred smiled softly as his little Brit curled up against him and fell asleep. He however wasn't tired and sighed silently, then repositioned himself so he was lying on his back. Arthur, even in his sleep, quickly followed and curled up next to him again, which Alfred happily accepted that as an invitation to cuddle him. The American hugged the prince tightly and spaced off. What would he and Arthur do now? They were going to have to lay low, from the entire freaking world practically. _It's doable…._ Alfred thought, glancing worriedly over at Arthur, _Whatever it takes to protect him. I'll do anything._ Alfred mentally decided.

He lay there for three hours while Arthur slept, lazily running a hand through his prince's hair and kissing his forehead lightly whenever it seemed Arthur was about to wake up. Finally the now well rested Brit blinked his eyes open tiredly and looked up at Alfred adorably.

"Hey." Alfred whispered softly, leaning down to kiss the Brit's forehead. Arthur smiled in response and sat up, stretching his arms over his head and yawning like an adorable little dinosaur.

"How long was I out?" Arthur asked, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand and looking over at Alfred.

"I dunno, two or three hours I think." Alfred replied, sitting up from his slouched position.

"Oh wow, I was asleep for a while…" Arthur mused, looking out the small window to see that the sun was beginning to settle behind the mountains. "Oh well, do you want to go scope out the town Alfred?" he asked, slowly crawling off the bed and turning back to face the American.

"Sure, sounds good to me." He agreed, swinging his legs off of the edge of the bed and standing up.

The two walked out of the room and down the hall. They arrived in the small lobby silently and made no noise when they snuck out, trying not to disturb Antonio and Lovino, who were locked in a passionate kiss behind the counter. They made it out alive and unnoticed and began to walk down the beaten dirt road, looking from shop to shop enthusiastically, neither of them had had much freedom before to walk around like a normal person. Alfred finally pointed out a little place that looked like a mix between a bar and a café, and the two runaways decided it was as good of a place as any to eat dinner.

Alfred walked in first, politely holding the door open for Arthur, who flashed a thankful smile and a small, "Thanks Love~" to the kind gesture. The bar/café was a quaint place, with various tables and chairs and a bar near the back of the restaurant. Alfred gestured to a table and held the chair out for Arthur, letting him sit before excusing himself to go order something.

He walked up to the bar and was greeted by a woman, maybe in her early twenties with milk chocolate hair that cascaded down to her lower back, and emerald eyes just a shade lighter than Arthur's.

"Hey traveler, welcome. My name is Eliziveta but you can call me Liz. What can I get for you and your cute companion today?" She asked, pulling a pad of paper and a pencil out of the pocket of her green and white knee length dress. Alfred glanced around, searching for a menu. Finally finding one, he glanced down it and ordered for him, and then what Arthur had always eaten back at the castle.

"And then… a cup of coffee and a cup of earl grey for Artie." He finished, politely setting down the menu and smiling cheerfully at the girl.

"Of course, right away." She said, finishing writing it all down and beginning to walk away and into the back kitchen. She ran right into the chest of a man around her age, with dark chocolate brown hair and the brightest color of amethyst eyes Alfred had ever seen. He held a certain air of someone with power, but even though he looked strict, he smiled affectionately at Liz and kissed her forehead.

"Careful Liz, don't hurt yourself." He said softly, stepping to the side and letting her pass. She rolled her eyes at him but smiled none the less, reaching up and pecking his cheek before scurrying off to the back kitchen. The Austrian stepped out to where Alfred was, flashing a smile at him. "Hello, you're new here right?" He said more than asked.

"Uh yeah, tell me, how does everyone know that?" Alfred asked, looking around the café.

"Well, I guess this town is just so small, we all know each other." He answered simply, shrugging his shoulders. "My wife will be right out with your food." He said, nodding and walking off. 'Oh, so they're married.' Alfred thought, 'that's nice, that they trust each other that much to give their heart and souls to each other. I wonder if Arthur would ever marry me?'

With that thought stored in the back of his mind, Alfred walked over to the table and took a seat opposite Arthur.

"Hello Love, does it seem like they have good food here?" Arthur asked, unconsciously using his nickname on Alfred. Alfred smiled, that nickname was absolutely adorable!

"Yeah, it seems good." Alfred said happily, smiling warmly up at Liz as she brought the coffee and earl grey over. "Thanks." He said thankfully, earning a nod and warms smile before she walked off.

"She seems nice." Arthur observed, laying his hand on the table absentmindedly. Alfred took the chance and moved his hand forward, taking Arthurs in his own. He ran a thumb over Arthur's, sighing happily and looking out the large windows. Arthur smiled skittishly and took a sip of his tea with his free hand, squeezing Alfred's hand lightly. Alfred squeezed back, staring lovingly into the Brits bright green eyes. After a minute of the comfortable silence the food came out and both Alfred and Arthur dug in, neither had realized how hungry they were until they had taken their first bite. They had been surviving off of wild animals for the past few days, and lasagna, broccoli, and some form of bean were heaven to their taste buds. ((No idea what they ate back then))

After the two finished their dinner, they pushed the plates away with a content sigh. "That was awesome." Alfred said happily, reaching in his pocket for money. Liz walked over, happily accepting the generous amount of money and skipping off. "So, whadda wanna do now?" Alfred asked the Briton, standing up and walking over to Arthur, offering him his hand which he happily accepted.

"I don't know Love, what do you feel like doing?" He asked, happily following Alfred out of the building and onto the nearly empty streets. Alfred shrugged his shoulders, just beginning to walk in no general direction. The two strolled in silence, just enjoying the others company. "I suppose we could just go back to the room, it is getting rather late after all." Arthur finally said, shivering a bit from the cold. Alfred agreed and slid his jacket off of his shoulders and over Arthurs, ignoring his protesting, "Alfred, you'll be cold." He said, trying to shrug off the very warm bomber jacket. Alfred simply smiled and shook his head.

"You'll catch a cold." He said, "And plus, I'm not cold at all." Arthur finally accepted the jacket, not putting his arms through it but simply hugging it around his shoulders like a blanket. They finally arrived back to the room, and both of the teens lay down in each other's arms.

"Alfred?" Arthur asked after a moment, wearily looking up from his spot on his chest.

"Yeah?" Alfred asked, snapping out of his little daze, looking down at the Brit.

"Do you think we'll be able to stay here?" He asked in a childish voice. Alfred thought for a moment.

"Yeah, I think we'll be able to, if you wanna." He said happily. Arthur grinned sleepily and nodded before laying his head back on Alfred's chest. He yawned adorably and slowly, the two drifted off into each other's arms.

*Two weeks later*

After fourteen days of hearing nothing, Alfred and Arthur were certain that they were safe at last. They had become pretty well known in the town because they helped anyone that needed it. Sometimes the two would simply walk downtown, searching for people who may need assistance. They were completely and utterly in love with each other, and they were as happy as could be. They had brought a _very_ large sum of money with them from the palace, enough to last years as long as they weren't excessive.

"Alfred, do you have the money I gave you earlier?" Arthur asked, leaning up against the railing of the front porch of the café.

"Yeah." Alfred replied, reaching in and ruffling through his pocket. His stomach dropped when his fingers only felt emptiness. "Uh, hold on." Alfred said, patting down his front and back pockets, then searching all over his body, like he expected it to be chilling out on his shoulder. "I… uh…."

"You _lost_ it?" Arthur asked in awe that Alfred could possibly have made such a move, "All of our money, you lost it?" Panic was sinking in both of their stomachs.

"I don't know how, I swear Artie, I had it just a minute ago!" He promised, letting his eyes frantically search the ground. Arthur took a deep and shaky breath, he really didn't want to be angry at Alfred, that'd only lead to an argument, or him feeling exceedingly bad afterwards.

"Alright, you check back at the hotel and in the café, I'll check down the streets." The Brit said, taking off and keeping his eyes on the ground. Alfred sighed, _Idiot!_ He scolded himself in his mind, how stupid could he possibly manage to be?!We half ran in the café, scanning the floors then asking Roderich if he'd seen a satchel of money. After having been told no, Alfred ran out of the building and to their motel. He tried to remain calm and walk back to his room, but his hands shook as he unlocked the door.

What he did not expect, was for a hand to wrap around his waist, and another placing something over his mouth. Alfred inhaled sharply in panic, then immediately regretted it when he realized that chloroform was the thing pressed up to him. With a last feeble kick, Alfred slid his eyes closed and lost consciousness.

*Arthur*

The Brit had checked everywhere they had gone that day, and he was becoming even more panicked now that the sun was setting, making it physically impossible to see. He finally stopped running and panted, placing his hands on his knees and trying not to worry so much. It'd show up, everyone in the town loved them, so hopefully if they found it they'd return it, right? Arthur now had to go find Alfred, he was sure the American was either mad that Arthur had snapped at him, or sad.

Arthur began to walk back, watching as the quarter moon barely managed to light his path enough to see. He passed the café, and finally arrived back at the motel. He walked in his room and was greeted with silence, "Alfred?" He called out, closing the door behind him and scanning the dark room with his eyes. "Alfred are you in—mgh!" His cry of surprise was muffled by a hand over his mouth. His eyes widened and he struggled even more, desperate to free himself. Then he heard the purr of someone's voice in his ear.

"Oi little bro, boy were you hard to track?" Asked his brother James, and then the world went black.

Author's Note: Yay, so I finally got this out. I'm sorry guys, my posts will be slower, there's a lot of shit going on in my life right now and in addition, I just applied for the Fine Arts, so I have to hurry the fuck up and make a portfolio for that. And just grr, it's time consuming and shit. So anyways, please do enjoy.

Oh, James is Scotland, if you didn't know.

Thanksies for reading!


	7. Even with death, Love can't be destroyed

**Author's Note: Just a few things to say, first of all, I apologize if my formatting is weird (spacing from paragraph to paragrah, etc). My computer decided to have a software crash, soo... Now I'm on an old one, and it doesn't have the newest Microsoft like my other one did. It may or may not look fine when I post this, but if not, SORRY!~**

**Second of all, I apologize for being slow. Like I just said, my computer whacked out so I have to get used to this one. And I have a request for a SebbyxClaude that I WILL do, I promise! I'm starting on it today, so with hope it'll be out by Christmas. So, if you love Black Butler, keep an eye out for it!**

**Review on what you love, hate, cried over, wanted to give someone a hug, WHATEVER!**

** Thanks for reading!**

Chapter 7 Even with death, love can't be destroyed 

Arthur grumbled and reached up to rub his head, only he found that his hands were tightly bound behind his back. His eyes snapped open, expecting to find and American curled up next to him like he'd woken up to for three weeks now. Only he wasn't in a bed, nor next to Alfred. He was confused for a moment, had he and Alfred switched hotels? But if so, then where was his American.

"Oi little bro!" He snapped his head up to see James, his older brother. His stomach filled with dread as the past nights events filled his head. 'Oh god….' He jumped into a sitting position despite his bound hands, and his eyes widened.

"Alfred, Alfred!" He cried out in panic, scanning over where he was and realizing he had been laying on the forest floor. He could see a thin layer of snow coating most of the ground, but apparently the fire burning a few feet away had melted the small amount.

"He's not 'ere." His older brother said to his cries, lighting a cigar and putting it to his mouth, taking a deep breath. "He went with Patrick." He said, referring to Arthur's younger brother. Arthur did his best to calm down and look back to James.

"W-why did you capture us?" He asked, "You just…. Disappeared for years, and now you're kidnapping us?" Arthur looked to his brother, who he had not seen in many, many years indeed.

"Pattie and I didn' leave, we 'ere training." he said, as if it were obvious and Arthur was stupid for not knowing.

"Training for what?" Arthur asked, his eyes still searching for Alfred even though he knew that the American was long gone.

"'Ell, see Pattie and I didn't want to become king, so we decided to become the next best, the kings rat." He began, leaning up against a log, "We're sort of the messenger boys, except... a lot awesomer. We go on assassin missions to get rid of important people, we demolish government's without leaving a trace, and in cases like this, we bring back a prince and his unruly servant so said prince can marry." He said the last part in a voice laced with false happiness. Arthur growled, after not seeing his only relatives for over ten years, he wished they'd just go die in a hole.

"Let me go!" Arthur shouted, in a sudden fit of rage. "I'm bloody serious James, do it! I've got to go save Alfred!" His voice had dropped slowly, to more of a whisper as he desperately struggled against the restraint, "I've got... to go... save him." The last part was barely a whisper as he looked at James with desperation in his eyes, small tears brimmed in the corner of his emerald eyes. Said Scot raised a eyebrow.

"I 'as informed that he badgered you into running away with 'im." He said, furrowing his eyebrows. Arthur almost laughed at the thought.

"A-are you kidding me?! Who the hell told you that?!" He demanded to know.

"Papa, actually. He said that the Alfred guy badgered you into it..." He mumbled.

"N-no! Alfred _suggested _it, I don't want to marry that bloody frog!" Arthur shouted, tears came to his eyes out of the frustration of it all. Damn them all to hell... "Who would?! He bloody tired to _rape _me, and Alfred was the one who saved me from him!" Arthur was just mad now, mad that he'd been pried away from Alfred. James thought for a moment, then shook his head.

"Sorry little bro, but I've got to bring you back, pops orders." He said slowly, Arthur bit his lip in frustration.

"Please James!" He begged, which he _hardly_ ever did, "Please, let me go get him, bringing him back to the castle will be sentencing him to death!" His voice had risen again, and he was sitting straiter, trying to make his way over to his brother. The Scot shook his head sadly, not uttering another word.

"Yeah, he'll be sentenced to death, and then you can get on with your life as the prince of the British Empire. Whoop dedoo. Get over it, no more arguing or I'll be forced to gag you." He said sharply. Arthur let a strangled gasp escape his lips as he curled back up on the ground, bringing his bound legs to his chest and closing his eyes tightly.

The world was silent after that, James finished his cigar and tried his best to keep his gaze off of Arthur, who looked absolutely heart broken laying there in the cold. Slowly he stood up, walking over and kneeling beside him. He placed a hand on his shoulder, realizing he was freezing. Arthur however turned his head to face him and gave him the most venomous glare he could manage.

"Leave me the bloody hell alone." He hissed, scooting away and even further away from the fire.

"Arthur, you're freezing. Let me at least give you a blanket." He said, reaching over to his pack to grab one. "No, leave me alone or let me go." Arthur said quietly, scooting away and closing his eyes.

"Arthur-"

"No, I don't want to hear it." The Brit closed his ears the best he could, choosing to try to go to sleep. Finally sleep did crawl over and hug him, and he was thrown into the dream realm.

*Alfred*

The American woke up with a bolt, feeling sweat trickle down his face. He tried to sit up and find Arthur, hugging the Brit always made the nightmares go away. Only, he wasn't there. And he most certainly was not where he should be. He tried to sit up again, his last try failing. But he found that his hands and knees were bound painfully tight, and there was a gag over his mouth. He squirmed around, making small gasping sound, each was muffled by the gag. Finally he forced his body to calm down, if he kept going the ropes would make him bleed.

"Oi, you're up." Came a strong accent from behind him. He managed to roll over, a rock scraped his arm o the way and earned a pain filled yelp as it dug into his skin and crimson liquid dripped out of the wound. He looked up from the dirty floor of presumably a forest to see a boy, maybe a year or two younger than he himself. He had bright red hair and freckles covered his face, and a pair of bright emerald eyes similar to Artie's. Actually, they looked a lot like Arthur's, enough for Alfred to figure that along with the bushy eyebrows, this man was related to Arthur.

"Who're you?" Alfred asked through the gag, which probably sounded like "'ore 'ou?" Somehow the teen understood him and he grinned, a hint of the devil shone in his eyes.

"I'm Patrick Kirkland." He said, mockingly extending a hand for Alfred to shake, as if saying, 'take a good look at the positions we're in, watch yourself'. "And I'm the last person who you'll be seeing before you have a death sentence."

Alfred's eyes widened and he looked around, realizing he was in the middle of no where, a thick layer of snow coated the ground around them, and the trees had lost their leaves.

"Why am I here, why are you doing this to me?" Alfred asked, again it was greatly muffled by the gag.

"Well, someone had to catch the boy who captured the prince." He began, having a very long speech in mind. "Enjoy it did you, hanging out with little Artie? Well, I hope while you two were having fun, he didn't forget to mention it was all a setup? He was told to go along with you if you ever asked, so we could determine if you were reliable." He said, this part he didn't like as much. He'd been told to lie to this man, completely crush whatever flame of rebellion he had inside of him, so he kept going, "Yes sir he did~. And I'm sure Arthur's glad it's over, when we suggested the idea, he really didn't like it. In fact, he despised the idea of running away with _you_." He hissed the last word for effect.

Ouch, that'd hurt. Alfred stared at him in dis-belief, then shook his head, "Y-you're wrong!" He tried to shout, muffled again by the gag. Patrick grinned devilishly, knowing he'd planted the seed. Now all the American needed was for time to think. So without another word, Pattie stood up and walked into the woods, going to fetch more firewood.

_No, it couldn't be true. N-never, Arthur said he loved me! He did, he did! And I said it too, and... y-you can't just pretend to be head over heels with someone for that long... can you? I... I guess he was pretending. I should of known, an amazing person like him would never love me. Ever._

Alfred thought sadly, feeling tears well up in his cheeks. He didn't resist them, rather let them fall down his cheeks silently. Even though he believed the Irishman, he couldn't bring himself to _ever_ hate Arthur. In fact, he just felt bad for him, for having to follow Alfred halfway across the country when in reality, it was all useless. Slowly Alfred drifted off to sleep, the tears never stopping.

*Three days later*

After three days of being loaded on a horse at the crack of dawn, both Alfred and Arthur were miserable. For one, they hadn't seen each other in what felt like years, and their bodies ached from being bound for so long. Finally Alfred and Patrick arrived back to the castle, and the Irishman strode his horse in, keeping his head high and a grin plastered on his face like he was some war hero. Alfred kept his eyes downcast, now constantly having to hold back tears.

When they walked through the gates of the castle, Alfred was yanked roughly off of the horse and brought to the prison on the royal grounds, only for the use of people directly in contact with either the prince or the king. Alfred didn't protest the entire time, just followed along and whimpered at the multiple punches and kicks he received by the guards.

And currently he was lying on the cold brick floor of the jail, thankfully the ropes had been removed, so he was rubbing his wrists absentmindedly, not really caring about the blood on them. His entire body was shaking slightly, mainly because of the cold, but also the current state on his heart. He was completely crushed, Arthur had never loved him, never. It had all been an act, and after three days of Patrick filling in any blanks he had in his head, Alfred honestly believed the story himself. _So I kidnapped him huh? _Alfred wondered, thinking back. Had he? Patrick had sure told him enough, how he'd grabbed Arthur and told him to follow him. _Maybe... But I-I... I don't think I did._ Was his final conclusion.

He heard the jail door creak open and he jumped, but kept laying down where he was, facing the wall and trying not to cry. He heard footsteps as the people neared, probably looking in each jail cell at the hopeless and gaunt faces staring back, some begging to be let go. And finally the footsteps, which he now deemed as four pair of footsteps, stopped in front of his cage. He didn't turn around, he didn't have it in him to watch others glare at him hatefully and spit at him.

"Turn around." A gruff voice commanded, and when he did not do it, he yelped in pain as a foot came through the bars, stepping roughly on his leg. "I said _turn_." Commanded the voice. This time Alfred slowly sat up and leaned up against the wall opposite the bars, refusing to look up at whoever it was.

"See?" Another voice asked, but not to Alfred, presumably someone else standing outside the cell. Alfred's curiosity took over and he glimpsed up, and found himself staring directly into a pair of emerald eyes.

"Arthur..." He whispered softly, tearing up at the sight of the Brit. He looked amazing, he was out of the peasants clothing he had been wearing recently, which was replaced by a royal robe, swooping around his form and hiding his frail complex. His hair was cleaner than the usual dirt-chalked hair, and his face was clean of all dirt and smudges. But one thing that startled Alfred was his eyes. Just like always, they were a brilliant green, but now the little spark he'd seen for weeks was missing, replaced by a dull and submissive gleam that in all reality, darkened his overall expression. Another thing Alfred noticed was the arm secured tightly around the princes hips, said arm connecting to a certain French prince.

"'Es right 'ere Arthur, he won't be bothering you any longer." Francis said merrily, motioning towards Alfred. Arthur tiredly nodded in confirmation.

"Alright, I just wanted to see for myself that he was in chains." The Brit said softly, turning to walk out.

"A-Arthur!" Alfred cried out in desperation, forcing himself to a standing position and wobbling on his feet. The prince turned his head slowly so he was looking back at him. His expression hardened and he frowned, 'tch'ing and turning back, walking out of the prison briskly. Francis however stayed behind, grinning widely and maliciously. He waved the two guards off, then crouched down on the other side of the bars. He placed his elbows on his knees, quickly becoming eyelevel with Alfred, who'd sunk back down to his knees after the harsh rejection.

"Aren't we in the opposite position now? 'Ittle Arthur is with moi, and you get to see how it feels to be rejected." He said in his honey smooth voice, sneering at him.

Alfred looked at him sadly, curling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around them, refusing to say anything in fear of breaking out into sobs. He buried his face in his knees, taking a slow and shaky breath, staying like that.

"I hope you enjoy Arthur watching you, because I can assure 'e and I will be watching closely while they kill you." He said in a deadly low voice, earning silence from the American. Slowly, Francis stood up and began to walk away, turning around when he was at the door and calling out, "Enjoy death, mon ami~" Before promptly walking out and away.

Alfred finally felt tears roll down his cheeks, and this time he did not fight them, rather accept the heartbroken trails running down his cheeks. Slowly he lay down, sobs racking his entire body, _I'm going to die, and I still love him._

**Author's Note: Alright, I'll get going on other stories, hope you enjoyed! Oh, and Patrick and James, (SLIGHT SPOILER) they aren't total meanies, you'll find out later on.**


	8. I'd die for him

Chapter 8  I'd die for him

As soon as Arthur exited the dingy prison, he almost collapsed up against a wall, his breathing light and shaky. His thin frame was shivering slightly at the horrible things he'd just say, the damage he'd just done. God, how he had hated saying those things, those terrible, and not-at-all true words. But they had to be said, he had to be convincing. He was glad the terrible Frenchmen had stayed back, even though he was probably speaking lies to Alfred, the Briton needed a moment to himself, a moment to think.

After another moment of shaking and uncertainty, he was able to straighten up, brush the dirt off of his back from where the wall had dirtied it, and plaster on a very fake smile for the returning Frenchmen. The Frenchie leaned over the second he reached the Briton and pressed a kiss up against his temple, and Arthur had to act like he loved it. He smiled sweetly (fakely) at the Frenchmen, not returning the kiss with any form of affection.

"Ready to go, mon amour?" Francis purred, wrapping an arm around his waist as he said so. Arthur meekly nodded, forcing himself to rest his head on the Frenchman's shoulder, only to hide his scowl from view of the Frenchie. _The look on Alfred's face…._ Arthur thought sadly, biting his lip and wishing that he wasn't in this position. He didn't want to be here with Francis, he wanted to be with the loud, sometimes obnoxious, adorable American, who cared and loved him. Who he loved back.

Soon they were out of the prison area, Francis persistently holding Arthur close to him. Arthur sure it was his own little way of "getting closer" to Arthur, who had refused to have sex with him the night he'd arrived back home. Already having a plan by the time he'd arrived, Arthur had said he needed to get over some horrible memory before he could think about it, and thank god, the Frenchmen had agreed. But only because he knew that Arthur was all his.

Well, or so he thought anyways.

"Oh, how adorable the two look!"

"Meant to be, they are!"

"I couldn't ask for a better pair of kings!"

All of these things echoed throughout the palace as they passed servants, maids, sometimes the occasional tourist who'd been granted access to the less important parts of the palace. Arthur listened to all of them, managing a meek smile to a few of the people who called out, "Prince Arthur!" He usually enjoyed this, meeting all of the people that loved and followed him, or his father. But now all he wanted to do was yell at them, because they obligated he and Francis to get married sooner than original, and because they didn't give a care about Alfred.

"Um… F-Francis?" Arthur asked slowly, glancing up at him with faked puppy dog eyes, "Do you think that we could go somewhere less crowded?" He asked in a soft tone, realizing long ago that the Frenchmen didn't like it when he was loud and boastful. That was another thing the Frenchman hated, Alfred always loved it when he'd spoken his mind, danced in the rain like some bloody idiot. Said Frenchmen looked down to Arthur and smiled, kissing his forehead and nodding.

"Of course, mon petite lapin." He said softly, his hand sliding down Arthurs hip, quite sensually he might add, then slipped into Arthur's hand, squeezing it lightly and guiding him away from the crowd.

He found himself being led all the way to the rose garden, his rose garden, his and Alfred's rose garden. Francis sat down on the marble bench, pulling Arthur into his lap. The Briton almost tumbled back into his lap, considering he was planning on sitting on a freaking bench, not Francis. However he forced himself not to protest, instead he dug his nails into his already scarred hand. He had found himself doing that a lot recently, just so he wouldn't smack someone instead. And upon inspection last night, there were indeed marks on his hand from said nails, and a bit of dried blood. But oh well, he hadn't really cared.

Now Francis had his arms wrapped securely around Arthur's waist, his hand rubbing small circles in the Britons upper thigh. Arthur tensed slightly at this, but the other only seemed to take this as an invitation to move his hand up even further. This is when Arthur quickly scooted off of his lap, looking over at him with a mixture of fear, and the smallest hint of anger.

"P-please don't do that…" He mumbled, looking away and placing his hands in his lap, lacing his fingers together. Oh how he wanted to punch him, to curl his fist up and slam it into his frog like face. But then everything would be ruined. Francis merely scooted closer to him, his cerulean eyes peering into Arthur's.

"You know what I think? I think you've made me wait long enough, mon petite lapin." He said in a soft voice, yet the devils tone was laced in it. His hand moved to Arthur's hip, slowly moving up and sliding half an inch under his shirt, feeling the creamy skin there. Arthur gasped, immediately trying to scoot away from him, however he was held in place by the Frenchmen's arms wrapping around his waist.

"F-Francis, s-stop!" He whimpered more than he said, though he wanted to act brave he couldn't seem to, not without Alfred.

"Oui, little bro!" Both Arthur and Francis turned to see James, his fire-red hair sticking up in all directions, a victorious grin on his face like always. For the first time in his life, Arthur wanted to thank him for interrupting.

Francis scowled at the Scott, not used to being interrupted, and obviously not used to the fact that James didn't give a flying fuck whether or not he just halted the Frenchmen. James walked over to the two, literally thumping Francis on the head with the back of his hand to get him to recoil from Arthur, which he did so immediately, rubbing said spot on his head.

"You'd better not do that again…" Francis growled up as him, quickly rising to his feet to stare him in the eyes. Only James was taller, and he only chuckled darkly at the threat.

"You lay a hand on my brother when he doesn't want you to and you'll be tasting dirt, aye?" He asked in a rather monochrome tone, walking over to the shaken Arthur, gently tugging on his arm and pulling him to his feet. Arthur blankly followed him as they left the garden, leaving the upset and angry Frenchmen standing there. As soon as they were out of view, James paused his walking, turning to Arthur and laying hands on his shoulders. His jade eyes scanned over him, checking for any damage.

"You alright?" He finally asked, not removing his hands from the Britons shoulders. Arthur merely nodded, looking away from his older brothers intense glare, his hand moving up to twirl a lock of his sandy blond hair between his fingers.

"Fine…" he replied weakly, wanting nothing more than the American's arms to be wrapped protectively around him at the moment. James nodded slowly, dropping his arms to his side but keeping his eyes trained on him.

"We're working on it, just wait." The Scott finally said, knowing that the Englishmen knew what he meant. He turned on his heels, his ivy green cape flying up a bit behind him as he quickly strode off. He had come all this way to let Arthur know that, he had his reasons….

Arthur watched him go emptily, sitting down where he was, burying his head in his hands. The rose thorns scraped his back lightly through the eloquent cape he had on as he leaned up against him. He winced lightly, then pressed his back up against them harder. _Get ahold of yourself Arthur!_ He mentally commanded, purposely reaching back and grabbing a stem, tightening his grip around it until little pricks of blood formed all over his hand, slowly trailing down his palm. He gasped, but didn't release his grip, instead tightening it until he was positive that his emotions were back in check. The last thing he needed was to have a breakdown, the whole palace would hear of it within an instant.

He released the rose bush, standing up abruptly and walking out of the maze-like garden. He didn't want to see Francis again, unless it was to slap him silly, but he couldn't do that; not right now anyways. He almost jogged back to the castle, arriving back to his room, rather his old room. Upon returning to the castle, his father had persisted that he and Francis share a room, and his old one was "small" for the two. Bull in his opinion, it had been plenty for he and Alfred that one night.

He plopped down on the bed, making sure to lock the door behind him upon entering, then curled up into a little ball. His knees came in to his chest, and he just lay there in his little ball, his breathing slow and calm like always, and his face as emotionless as ever. He just needed a moment to himself, where the Frenchmen's hands weren't roaming down to his ass. With a small jolt of surprise he realized that the sheets smelled like Alfred, that sweet and wonderful smell that Arthur couldn't quite describe. It was just so terribly American… he buried his face in the covers, inhaling sharply.

He lay like that for quite a while, thankfully no one thought to go looking for him, since Francis hadn't told anyone that he was still refusing him. In Francis's mind, it was his own personal game. He'd win once he got Arthur underneath him, so he was going to be quiet about it all, and wait. Because in the Frenchmen's mind, he had all the time in the world. Arthur finally looked up from the covers in a somewhat drowsy mood; he had fallen into a sort of a daze. Through the window he could see the sun settling behind the mountains, the same mountains he and Alfred had crossed just a few weeks ago. He found a sudden sadness welling up in him; the memory was still fresh, as was the memory of he and the American in the tent. That had been amazing, that one time had to of been the best of his life. He loved the feeling of Alfred's skin pressed up against his, it was a kind of friction that he'd never felt before. A kind of feeling he only wanted to share with Alfred, ever.

The sun finally was completely gone, and now surely the Frenchman was getting aggravated when he wasn't able to find Arthur. Good, Arthur was so close to slapping the frog it wasn't even funny, and if he tried anything else like he had earlier, a frog was going to have either a red cheek or a bleeding nose. Whichever Arthur felt like delivering at the time. Arthur pushed himself into a sitting position, then hopped to his feet, deciding that he might as well go and get some dinner, he hadn't been eating for the past few days, and it was catching up with him.

He wordlessly walked to the dining hall, walking right through it and to the kitchen. There he wordlessly grabbed a few easy things, making a simple sandwich, knowing that his cooking skills weren't the best. After preparing the sandwich, he hopped up on the counter, swinging his legs like a child as he slowly devoured the ham and cheese food. After that, he slid off of said counter, padding lightly around the kitchen, making a cup of earl grey tea, sipping on it silently as he walked back to the dining room, sitting down there and sipping it slowly.

It was quite odd to Arthur that the damned frog hadn't come looking for him by now. Night time had to be the worst, for the Frenchman would hug Arthur close the _entire freaking night_, which was actually a bit painful for Arthur, who didn't get to turn at all he was being held so tightly. Alfred had always held him perfectly, with tight yet comfortable arms that encased him. He sat there for a while after finishing his tea, lightly pushing it aside and sitting back.

He had almost fallen into a sleep in the chair, until the mahogany doors swung open violently. He bolted upright, his heart stopping for a mere second. He looked over to the door, seeing a messenger standing there. He had the usual attire, the black pants and white crisp shirt, nothing fancy really. His tan messengers beg hung at his side and it bounced slightly as he walked over to Arthur.

"Prince Kirkland, there you are!" He said in a happy tone, bouncing over. The little curl sitting on top of his head bounced ever so slightly as he walked.

"Ah, Feliciano, it's good to see you again." He said tiredly, standing up to address the cheery Italian. He had always been a tad jealous of the little brunette, he had it easy. All he had to do was deliver messages, and he got paid a ton for it because he delivered to higher up merchants and government officials. He had a German boyfriend, and his life was simple enough. But then again, Arthur was jealous of pretty much everyone in the castle, they all got much more freedom than the Briton ever did.

"Vee~! It's good to see you to, I've been looking all over for you!" He said with a merry tone, pulling out a manila envelope, waving it in the air before running over to the prince, almost tripping it over his own feet. Arthur chuckled, taking it from him, but not opening it. Probably just a bill, or a threat of war. He had decided that there wasn't much worse than being forced to marry Francis, he could handle whatever the hell it was. Instead, he leaned up against the table, smiling kindly at the Italian.

"Thank you Feli, and remember, it's Arthur, not prince Arthur." He said with a small amount of humor in his voice, he always reminded him of that.

"Vee, right prin—Arthur!~" he said merrily, leaning up against the wall opposite Arthur. Feliciano had always liked Arthur in a friendly way, he was a really nice person to Feli, and when the Italian had first started his job and was nervous, Arthur had talked to him for hours, smiling kindly and running a soothing hand down his back. To Feliciano, Arthur was one of the nicest people he knew, besides Luddy of course!

"Why don't you stay for a while Feliciano? I'm sure you have loads to talk about." Arthur said softly, willing to listen to him any day. The Italian probably didn't know it, but he always gave wonderful advice.

"Ve, thank you Arthur! I will!" He said merrily, smiling kindly at him. He instantly started talking. "So as you know, Luddy and I are still together, ve! And he always makes me all warm and fuzzy inside and stuff!" The Italian talked and talked, and then talked some more. While he continued on about the love part of it, Arthur had to tune it out, he couldn't take thinking about Alfred. But then he continued to speak, on a different topic. "For a really short time, I started to wonder something. How far would I go for him? And it really made me think ya know? I mean, I had never thought about it before, like if he was in trouble or something. And maybe it'd cost me my job if I helped…" At this Arthur perked up.

"Yeah, what did you decide?" He asked, speaking for the first time in the conversation. Feli's wide smile softened a bit, to a dreamy and loving expression. He was obviously thinking about his German.

"I'd die for him." He replied softly, his hands moving down to mess with a loose string on his shirt. Arthur couldn't say he was startled by this response, rather he found that it was the most poetic and inspiring thing that he'd ever heard Feliciano say. Arthur find himself smiling slightly, and he closed his eyes for a moment.

"That's a good decision, a good thing to know." He said quietly, "It's almost like you've set in stone your love for him." He mused, his emerald eyes reopening. Only now, they held utter determination. Feliciano nodded merrily, then glanced around.

"Oh god Arthur, I've got to go, I'm sorry!" He said, bolting out. Before closing the door, he turned back to Arthur and smiled the softest, most sincere smile ever. "Good luck Arthur, you'll get through this all." He said slowly, then ran out, going to deliver his next message.

Arthur stood there in shock for a moment, wondering what Feli had meant. Did the Italian know about he and Alfred? Oh well, he pushed it to the back of his mind as he pulled the letter out of his pocket, tearing it open slowly. He tossed the envelope on the table and looked down at the paper, freezing up as he read it.

_To Prince Arthur,_

_You are royally invited to the execution of an Alfred F. Jones, scheduled for tomorrow, 8PM sharp. If you and Prince Bonnefoy wish to attend, you are warmly welcomed to. _

_Sincerely, the supreme court of Crystal Palace._

"This is all some joke….." he whispered, his body shaking slightly. He knew this was going to happen, he planned for it, yet it came as a large shock. He had been hoping that he wouldn't be sentenced to death so soon, but it was happening. The plan he'd established would be put to the test much faster than originally planned. He closed his eyes again for a moment, forcing surfacing emotions to lay back down. Slowly, his eyes creaked back open and he took a breath.

At that moment, a fire burnt in his eyes, and one lone thought occupied his mind. _I'd die for him._

*The next day*

After an hour of calming himself and all the doubts that lurked deep in his head, Arthur had managed to drag himself back to his old room, locking the doors behind him and ignoring Francis when he came knocking on the door. Finally the Frenchman had let him be, not allowing anyone to learn that they were not getting along as well as thought. Arthur had slept terribly, and had to force himself out of bed the next morning.

As his feet hit the floor he shivered, sparing a glance to the letter that was resting half opened on his bed stand. He frowned at it, hating its contents. Without a word, he walked over to the wardrobe, rifling through what to wear. He finally settled upon a simple pair of black slacks, a crisp white button up shirt, and a simple jade colored vest, which when buttoned, hugged his torso in quite an amazing way. He slipped a golden pocket watch into his pocket, letting the little shimmering chain connect to one of his belt loops. For some reason he found that he wanted to look good for Alfred, he would be seeing the American again today, and he wasn't going to let him die.

Glancing at his reflection in the mirror, noting the bags under his eyes and the small scowl set on his lips, he shrugged, unlocking the door and promptly walking out of the room. He knew that he couldn't avoid Francis all day, so instead of hiding, he walked directly to "their room" and opened the door, finding the Frenchman combing his hair. He turned to see Arthur standing there, and he grinned widely, walking over to him.

"Good morning mon petite lapin!" he purred, pulling Arthur in and kissing him merrily. Arthur made a little grumbling noise in protest, pushing him away and wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

"Morning frog." He replied, walking over and sitting on the bed. He'd stay with Francis for the day, but he was going to be an ass the entire way. Francis frowned darkly at the nickname, but said nothing. Arthur sat there, curling his legs into his chest in a very childish manor, looking over at him with a venomous glare. The Briton had already figured out that it had been the Frenchman's idea to pretend Arthur had been kidnapped. And if Arthur hadn't hated his guts before, now he was absolutely infuriated with every breath Frannie took.

"Are you excited for the execution of that little street rat?" Were the next words out of Francis's mouth. Boy, did this guy know how to get to Arthur. Earlier in the morning, Arthur had promised to keep his self-control, but that was going too far. Arthur stood up, walking over to the Frenchman. He glared strait into his eyes coldly, having every intention to slap him. Sadly, he was pretty sure that Francis could catch his hand, so he restrained.

Instead, he leaned up and pressed his lips up against the Frenchmen's, kissing him roughly. Francis, though surprised, grinned and kissed him back. For a moment the two's lips were locked, pressing close to one another as Francis's hand moved down to his ass, until the Frenchmen's tongue slid across Arthur's lower lip. That was just what Arthur was waiting for, he opened his mouth, letting the Frenchmen's tongue in, letting it poke around for a mere second, then promptly biting it as hard as he freaking could. And that was pretty damn hard. Francis yelped, yanking back from him in pain and glaring venomously at Arthur, tasting blood in his mouth as he raised a hand to cover his lips.

"If you _ever_ insult Alfred like that _again_, I will have sex with you just so I can break your neck in your sleep. Are we clear?" He said in a surprisingly monochrome tone, crossing his arms across his chest. The Frenchman said nothing, instead pointed to the door, one hand covering his mouth, his fingers had a bit of blood on them. Arthur happily obliged, walking out of the room with his head held high. Alright, that had been _so_ much better than slapping him.

Arthur strode to the rose garden, sitting where he and Alfred had, humming to himself. That had put him in a better mood, he hadn't seen Francis ever act angry, or like he was going to hit him. But now that he knew that there was that side… Arthur was just happy, maybe he could piss him off so much that he never wanted to talk to him again.

He looked around the garden, the brightly colored flowers seeming a bit… on edge. Could flowers be on edge? Arthur didn't know, but they all stood a little higher, their color was brighter, and the thorns seem to glisten a bit brighter. He wondered if they were worried for Alfred, maybe the roses had feelings, and they had grown to like Alfred?... Arthur knew that now he was being ridiculous, flowers didn't have emotions. But still, maybe they had…. He chuckled at his stupidity, reaching over and breaking off a rose, twirling it around in his hand and admiring its cobalt color. The little droplets of dew still clung onto the pedals, and the green of the leaves was a bright and beautiful color. If Alfred were there, he would have said the flower was _almost_ as pretty as Arthur. Almost.

For the remainder of the day Arthur stayed there, not daring to go see the Frenchman again. He'd angered him, it probably wasn't smart to be stuck all alone in a room with him at the moment… as he saw the sun begin to set, he pulled the golden pocket watch out of his pocket, seeing it was half an hour to 8. He felt his heart leap out of his chest, and he forced himself to calm down, this had been coming all day long. He stood up abruptly, dashing out of the garden. In all reality, he felt guilty that he couldn't be with Alfred as of the moment, the poor American must be terrified. He just picked up his pace, his feet padding softly on the wet grass. _I'm coming Alfred, just a little longer…_

*Alfred*

Adrenaline coursed through the Americans veins, and he could feel his body shaking slightly. Whether it was from fear or the fact that he hadn't eaten in well over half a week he had no idea. Probably both, and he just prayed to god that however this was going to end, it would end fast. He no longer had a shirt on, it had been long discarded so he couldn't hide anything, like he was actually planning on it. If Arthur wanted this, than he'd die, he'd die for the Briton if he honestly wanted him dead. The long scars on his back from the whip were now visible, and it amazed him how far away that world seemed.

He had thought that was hell, being treated like property and getting hit every day all those months ago. But the mere thought of Arthur not loving him back was far worse than anything hell could inflict on him. As of the moment he sat on the floor of the cell he'd been in for the past week, leaning up against the wall to keep himself from falling over. He could have stood if he actually wanted to. He could have stood up and tried to get out, save his life. But no, he didn't want to.

The door to the prison creaked open slowly, and the sound of footsteps soon became evident. He looked up tiredly at whoever it was, not recognizing them, but guessing they were guards. He blinked emptily at them, wondering if they had any sense of human in them, maybe enough to feel the least bit guilty for him. But no, all they did was unlock the door, roughly yanking him to his feet and pulling him out the cell and down the hall. He stumbled once or twice, his heart starting to pound a bit harder as he did so.

"Wh-where are we going?" He dared to ask, his question answered with silence. He found the urge to cry, but held it back by biting his lip roughly, keeping his head down. Soon they were outside, and he found himself taking a deep breath of fresh air, practically tasting the winters brisk air on his tongue. He shivered slightly, seeing small flurries of snow come from the gray crowds up above.

And there it was, something that made his stomach drop out of him. A noose, a single noose hung high up on a wooden platform. His eyes widened in panic and fear, and human instincts took over as he suddenly struggled against the hands holding him in place. "L-let me go!" He demanded, his voice shaking. Upon further inspection, there were others watching, waiting for him to die. "S-Stop!" He cried out in fear, trying to dig his heels in the ground to halt his movement. They however just continued to move, dragging him along with them.

The stage was like the one in the movies, the American would stand on a stool, and when the hangman pulled the lever, a trap door would drop from below him, the stool dropping into the dark abyss below and leaving Alfred… well, you get the idea.

As they shoved Alfred onto the stage, he was forced onto a little stool, having to stand on his tippy toes to have the noose wrapped around his neck. If he had been shaking slightly earlier, now it was clearly visible, his shoulders shook violently. But as bad as that was, once his terrified eyes landed on Arthur, who was sitting near the back, he lost any form of resistance as tears slowly trailed down his cheeks. Even then, when he was so close to dying, the image of Arthur was a little something for him to hold onto. With his always messy wheat hair, and his piercing emerald eyes…

The man started to speak, listing off his name, and the treason he committed. He shook his head slowly as they read that part off, it was all a lie, all fabricated. But nothing he said or did could sway their opinion, and he knew that. He continued to look to Arthur, and finally their gazes clashed. He looked to him with a mortified expression, sniffling silently now along with the tears running down his cheeks. His expression was a pitiful and begging one, he wanted nothing more than to hear the Brit speak to him once more….

And then came the dreadful moment when he saw the man's hand move to the lever that would end his life. His eyes left Arthur's, and moved to the man. His hands were tied tightly behind him, but they were wiggling, trying to get free of the binds. Just as the man began to push the lever down, an arrow zoomed through the air.

And cut clean through the rope.

For a moment Alfred had felt a sudden tug on his throat, but then the bottom dropped out of the stage, and instead of hanging, he went right on tumbling down with the stool into the darkness beneath the stage. The crowd gasped in surprise, and even the hangman yelped in surprise. Alfred found his body being slammed right into the dirt below the stage, and he groaned in pain. But hell, he was alive. It was pitch black down there, and for an instant he thought he was alone, until he felt a hand on his arm. He yelped in surprise, feeling a blade cut through the ropes holding his arms behind his back.

"Wh-what?!" He exclaimed, feeling his body be yanked roughly to its feet, but in a more urgent tone to it.

"Hurry up, come on!" Whispered the stranger, his ivy green cloak hiding his face and body from view. Alfred just stared over at him blankly for a moment, was he being saved? Well, what did it matter? It wasn't by Arthur, the Briton truly didn't care… "Unless you want to die and never see Arthur again, I suggest you fucking move." Growled the person.

Alfred perked up a bit, and was about to question the stranger, but the shouts of guards filled his ears and he nodded, breaking off into a slightly wobbly sprint behind the man. He was guided out a small door near the end of the stage, and through the crowd of very confused people. They were all panicking, thinking some crazy man that captured the prince was running amuck. They didn't really pay attention as two figures zoomed through the crowd and near the castle.

After a moment of sprinting along the walls of the castle, the hooded man pulled a few bricks out of the wall, climbing through and motioning for Alfred to follow, which he did quickly. The adrenaline was still coursing through Alfred's body as he was led up a pair of very narrow stairs, taking them in twos to keep up with the man in front of him. The man's hood fell from his face, revealing a head of fire red hair. Alfred would have frozen in his spot, had he not still been slightly terrified for his life.

After what seemed like hours of sprinting up stairs, what was surely at least twenty stories worth of them, they arrived to the top. Not having moved, eaten, drank or even slept much in the past few days, Alfred put his hands on his knees, panting heavily. The other man, who Alfred realized was none other than James Kirkland, didn't seem winded in the least. Finally the American straitened, seeing a wooden door right behind the Scott. He blinked twice in a questioning manor, wondering what was going on.

"Through that door, and stay there." He said simply, pointing to the wooden door as he pulled his hood back over his face, covering himself completely.

"But…" Alfred didn't know what to say; thanks? This man and his brother had taken he and Arthur back here, he was the cause of all of this. Had he not left them be, none of this would of happened. But still, he'd just saved him…. "Thanks." He said silently, nodding and looking down to his arms, rubbing the spots on his wrists that were bleeding from the rope. James nodded, turning and briskly walking back down the stairs.

Alfred took a step forward, then turned upon hearing him walk back towards him. He yelped quietly in surprise when he was pushed up against a wall.

"If… if you hurt him, do anything to upset him or make him cry, and I will drag you back to the gallows myself. Are we clear?" He asked in a dangerously low voice, glaring at him from under the cape.

"H-huh? W-what're you talking about?!" He asked in surprise, feeling the man's hands balled up against his skin, still being shirtless.

"Just fucking promise, aye?" He countered, knowing that the American would understand soon enough.

"A-alright! Geez!" he said, pressing up against the wall to try to get away from the madman. "I promise, whatever you're talking about, I promise!" he said in a bit of a panic, waving his hands in front of his chest in an 'I give' sign.

Without another word, James backed away, taking the stairs in threes, his cape billowing behind him. Alfred stood there for a minute before pushing off of the wall, slowly walking over to the door. He walked into the dark room, noticing the simple queen bed with the crisp white sheets and the small window on one wall, moonlight pouring in from it. He closed the door behind him, looking around tiredly for a moment before feeling tight arms around his waist, pulling him back.

"Ack!" For a terrible moment Alfred thought he was in serious trouble, until he felt a shorter body press up against his back, and the arms wrapped around him were nothing more than used for a tight hug. He froze, not able to turn the person was hugging him so tightly.

"So sorry, I'm so, so, _so _sorry Alfred…." Came the whisper from behind him. Alfred instantly realized the soft and regretful voice.

"Arthur…" He breathed, trying to turn to face him, but was again unable to move.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know what else to do, and I couldn't m-make it seem like I-I still wo-worried…." He mumbled, pressing his face between the Americans shoulder blades, trying his best to stop the tears. But they'd been held in for a week now, and he'd wanted to cry and break down so many times. Slowly tears etched their way down his cheeks, and he held onto the American for dear life. He continued to speak quickly, choking on his own words as he tried his best to explain why he'd acted like he had. He couldn't take it if Alfred was mad with him, not after he'd done everything that he could in his power to keep him alive. He had been completely prepared to hold a dagger to his chest and demand that Alfred lived, but thank god both James and Patrick had been willing to help after hearing the truth, how much he loved Alfred. They _were_ his brothers, and they did want the younger Briton to be happy.

The next few moments were filled with silence, except for the muffled sound of Arthur's sobs. After a few more moments, Alfred managed to pull Arthur's hands off of him, then turn around briskly, hugging him back tightly. Arthur buried his face in his chest, losing all self-control as he just sobbed, allowing his guard to drop now that he was with Alfred. The American didn't know what to say, after hearing his Briton explain, it all seemed to make sense. Of course he had to act like that to make it seem like he had indeed be kidnapped, so there wouldn't be near as many guards around him, and so his brothers jobs were easier.

"It's alright Arthur, its fine." He said honestly, still in wonder that he didn't have to apologize to Arthur, like he thought he'd have to. He rested his chin on the Britons head, hugging him close and running a hand up and down his back. A single tear rolled down his cheek, but it was out of happiness, he was so happy to have Arthur back. "Shh, shh…" he whispered, rocking him back and forth slightly.

After a few more moments, the Britons sobs slowed down, to sniffling and then hiccups. He let himself be held by Alfred again, he never wanted it to end. He felt a hand under his chin, tilting his head up so their gazes met.

"I…." his voice shook slightly as he looked into the pair of emerald eyes, the amazing and radiant orbs that he'd wanted to see for so long now. "I'm so happy…. I'm so happy that you're here…" He mumbled, hugging him close as a small smile played on his lips. He didn't know what else to say, he had thought that he was going to lose him, and he wasn't, he wasn't going to lose Arthur.

Slowly he leaned in another inch, so their lips brushed. He paused for a moment, remembering how amazing the Brit's lips felt with that one small amount of contact, before gently closing the space between them again. He could feel Arthur's soft and plump lips pressed gently up against his again for the first time in what seemed like a life time, and he could feel the Briton's arms slowly wrapping around his neck, pulling him up closer. Alfred's sapphire eyes slid closer as he pressed a bit closer, his arms looping around Arthur's waist, pulling him in closer. Arthur tilted his head to the side a bit, the tears on his cheeks slowly drying as they continued to kiss. Slowly, the American pulled back, making a cute kissing noise as their lips disconnected. He looked down into his eyes lovingly, doing so for the first time in a week. Arthur looked back up at him, biting his lip softly as he did so.

"You tired?" He American asked softly, earning a small nod. Arthur wanted desperately to help with the cuts and bruises he had on his body, to stay up all night and just kiss him, but he didn't think that he could stay awake for another minute, not with the American's arms wrapped firmly around him. The Brit allowed Alfred to pick him up, letting him lay up against his chest as he settled the both of them into the bed.

"Mh…" Arthur made a little purring sound as he cuddled up to Alfred, words could not explain all of the feelings of joy coursing through him. Alfred was just as happy, and he happily hugged him back. After a while of silence, Arthur looked up to the tired American.

"Hey Alfred?..." he asked silently, poking his bare shoulder lightly to get his attention. The American looked down.

"Yeah?" He asked slowly, keeping him held close to him.

"I love you." He said softly, feeling like it had to be said. Nothing had changed, he needed to prove that to himself, that Alfred still loved him just as much as he did as before. The American felt his heart flutter, and he grinned.

"I love you too." He replied softly, leaning in and kissing the tip of his adorable British nose, making a cute little "chu~" sound as he did so. Arthur smiled softly, curling up close to his chest and closing his eyes.

"Good night Alfred." He said softly, already falling into a deep sleep.

"Night Arthur." He replied back silently, pulling the covers over the both of them and slowly slipping into a peaceful sleep, hugging the Brit close. His Brit.

**Author's Note: *heavy sigh* DONE! I worked really hard on this chapter, I felt like since I left this story alone for a month or so, all you awesome people deserved a kick ass chapter. Anyhow, this is not the last chapter, Alfred's still illegal so… probably one or two more chapters, and most likely another smexy scene in there, I don't know, what do you guys think? **

**Also, I used the term "Crystal Palace" in the letter to Arthur, the Crystal palace is a palace that was destroyed in a fire in the later 1900's, but it was a beautiful palace due to all of the stained glass and artwork. I thought it fit the palace Arthur was staying in well enough. **

**One thing, I do feel bad for making Francis the bad guy, because I really do love him to death, so I'll do some form of fanfiction with him in there, and he'll be the most adorable Frenchman ever. Oh right, I've already sorta done that, if you love Francis (Franada to be exact) go to my profile, and read "Broken Beyond Repair". OOPS, long authors note is long! Thanks for reading, **

**-Alice**


	9. Strategy

Author's Note: Oh my god I'm so sorry, I died. Actually, I applied for three writing schools in my area, and am taking on six advanced classes as of next year. So, I've been as busy as hell. I. apologize. You. Good. Souls. But I'm back, so you can count on regular updates. Which I have decided is per every ten comments, or every three weeks. SO, it's up to you guys whether you wait a month, or if you just suck it up and comment.

**Please pay attention to this, so I don't get any complaints for no one listening to me. **There's smut in this chapter, adorable, smutty goodness and love between our cute couple. You've been warned.

Chapter 9 Strategy

Both of the two lovers slept soundly through the night, Arthur curled up safely in Alfred's arms the entire time. Neither of them dared to roll or move away, even in their sleep, for the fear of waking up to an empty bed. Soon morning rolled around, and the first rays of sun crept through the shades, gracing the sun kissed skin of Alfred's back. His sleep filled cerulean eyes fluttered open slowly, and his lips instantly curled up into a smile as the first thing in his day that he saw was Arthur. Oh how he adored waking up to the face of the Briton.

Arthur's eyes slowly slid open as well, and he groaned softly, almost forgetting where he was. _A-am I… With Francis? I don't remember what happened…._ He thought, then saw his face was planted in the crook of the American's neck.

"Good morning, my little prince~." Alfred cooed, leaning down to place a light kiss to his cheek. Arthur looked up to him, smiling from ear to ear instantly.

"Good morning love~" He cooed right back, smiling sweetly and crinkling his nose adorably at the kiss. God… Arthur was so unbelievingly happy, he just felt like one of the luckiest men in the world. His father had tried to set up dates for him before, claiming that he needed to find someone before he became the true king of England. Of course, that had been a year ago, before his father had realized that he was gay. Yeah.. what a fun conversation _that_ had been.

"Sleep well?" Alfred questioned, smiling down to him and keeping his arms laced around him protectively.

"Of course I did, I slept right next to you!" He said sweetly, and Alfred felt like 'aww'ing at how completely adorable he was.

"I did as well, I slept right next to you~!" He said right back, humming happily. The both of them laughed for a while, chuckling together. This was what Arthur loved, getting to lay here in Alfred's arms, laughing like idiots over the stupidest of things. He remembered sleeping in Antonio's Motel, where the two would lay in the dark for hours together, talking about the funniest things. Even though usually they were so tired that they couldn't keep their eyes open, they would still both be smiling, and Arthur would be curled up in Al's arms. Then Arthur thought of something, and a small frown formed on his lips.

"Alfie?…." He said softly, looking up to him questioningly. Alfred chuckled softly at the use of the nickname, and looked down to him. He truly felt honored to have Arthur in his arms again, and his only fear as of the moment was that he'd wake up and find it was all a dream.

"Yeah?" He asked softly, kissing his adorable British nose.

"What're we going to do?… I mean… You're not legal, the entire palace is looking for you.. Of course you are safe up here, my brothers had it built without our fathers knowledge… But out of here, I can't be seen with you or else they'll try to kill you…" Arthur bit his lip as he finished, looking down in sadness.

"Oh hell, we'll figure something out! There's no need to get down over that!" Al said quickly, not wanting to see Arthur looking so sad after weeks of not seeing him at all. "Worst case scenario, I stay locked away in a tower and be your Rapunzel~." He joked, causing Arthur to quickly cover his mouth with his hand to hide his laugh.

"F-fine… We'll figure something out…" He agreed, nodding his head, that brilliant smile still hanging on his lips.

"See? There's that beautiful smile I've been wanting to see.." Alfred grinned, feeling his heart skip a beat at the simple yet breath taking smile. Arthur giggled and blushed lightly, curling in closer to the American tiredly.

"God… I can't seem to get enough bloody sleep…" Arthur mused, but then pushed the tiredness aside. "Alfred… I don't want to have to do this, but soon I'll have to leave for a bit… Just so no one assumes anything. I can come back at nighttime though.." He promised, averting his eyes. He felt bad to leave Alfred just after he'd gotten him back.

"Alright.. As long as you come back, I'm fine with that.." The American agreed half-heartedly. He didn't want Arthur to leave, but if the Brit stayed here all day, he'd have another entire kingdom looking after him.

"I will, I promise…." Arthur said, then the door was flung open and he shot upright, looking over with a startled expression. None other than James Kirkland stood there, a wide grin on his face.

"Morning Brother, morning brothers lover~!" He cooed without a thought, walking over to them. His usual ivy green cloak was tied around his neck, and it billowed behind him with his long and powerful strides.

"James, why the bloody hell are you here?" Arthur asked in a tired tone, wondering why the hell his brother ruined every sweet moment he and Alfred shared.

"I've come to collect you, dad's already freaking out, and I had to lie and say you were in your garden. I believe that Francis already figured everything out, so watch out for him… Long story short, get your ass outa bed, we've gotta go." He said, walking over and taking his brother by the arm, pulling him to his feet not too gently. Arthur hastily followed, used to the treatment from his brother. James had always been like that, he'd taught him a lot of things, one was to be tough. In times like this, there was no taking your time.

"Alright, Alfred, I'll be back!" He said, being pulled out of the room by the Scott. The door was closed and locked, so anyone who may possibly get up there, would be stopped by the two inch thick layer of mahogany.

"What happened? After you got Alfred out of there yesterday?" Arthur asked, looking over to him with a questioning glare. The two skipped down the several stories of stairs alongside one another, brother to brother.

"There was a hell of a riot. Everyone ran home so the 'crazy kidnapper' wouldn't get to them or their kids. Only Francis seemed to know what was going on, he was completely calm." James spoke quietly, so the rooms that were backed up to the secret stairwell wouldn't hear them. Arthur nodded in reply, having to skip every other step to keep up with the fast paced Scott.

As the two spoke, they did so in an urgent whisper. Arthur knew what was coming, he'd have to lie where he had been, he'd have to cover up and stay clear of Francis, he'd have to find a way not to get Alfred killed. At the same time he had to keep Alfred alive, and he wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. But hell, somehow he was going to figure out how to let Al be with him; even if that meant they had to marry to protect the American.

Soon they were at the bottom, and Arthur was silently slipping into one of the corridors of the main palace. He managed a relaxed expression as he walked to the dining hall, where hopefully, everyone would be having breakfast.

Arthur paused in front of the large mahogany doors, taking a slow and deep breath before pushing them open and walking in. Instantly, the smell of all sorts of food met his nose, and he head to resist the urge to salivate. He looked over to see Francis, and he father sitting on opposite ends of the table. The two looked over to him, surprise evident on their features.  
"Hello.." Arthur said nonchalantly, walking over and asking a seat in the middle, trying to stay as far away as possible from the both of them.  
"Arthur, where have you been?" The old man resembling Arthur asked in a surprisingly monochrome tone. It was evident he was trying hard not to explode at his son.  
"Out, I've been busy." He didn't feel like giving either of these men a real reason, he was mad at the both of them.  
"Mon petite lapin, I've been worried sick about you..." Francis said in a soft and caring tone, standing up to walk behind the Brit, hugging him protectively to his chest. For a moment Arthur realized Francis had his own, sick way of caring for Arthur. He did sound worried as to where he'd disappeared to the previous night. Nonetheless, Arthur found he still despised the man deeply.  
"Well I've been bloody busy, too bad for you." Arthur retorted, crossing his arms over his chest as he wiggled out of the others arms.  
"Arthur, don't talk to your husband like that." Arthur's father scolded. For a moment Arthur felt his head hurt at the thought. Husband. Francis was, or was soon going to be his husband. Arthur shook his head to rid himself of the thought, blinking to clear always whatever feeling made his heart ache.  
"He's not my husband yet." Arthur stated rather bluntly, quietly thanking the lady who had placed a plate of food in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Francis frown, having returned to his seat. "He may be in a few days, but until then I would appreciate if you didn't refer to him as such." It was getting difficult to keep Arthur's feelings under control, his hand was balled tightly in the material of his pants under the table. He wanted to go back to Alfred, he wanted to lay with him and hug him, and possibly repeat what they'd done in the tent all those weeks ago.  
"Arthur, don't mouth off to m-"  
"It's alright, Mr. Kirkland. I understand what he means." Francis cut him off, able to tell that Arthur was frustrated, and his father yelling wasn't helping.  
Arthur wanted to scream by this point, both at Francis and his father. Francis did _not_ understand what he was feeling. He was feeling the fact that he had to lie to everyone, and he had to pretend he wasn't head over heels for a certain American whom he'd locked up in a tower like freaking Rapunzel! And he wanted to scream at his father for arranging this marriage in the first place. He didn't want this!  
Arthur's mouth was pressed together in a fine line to stop himself from literally throwing a brick at somebody's head. The rest of the meal was completely and utterly silent, other than the soft cling of silverware as they all ate. Arthur honestly wasn't hungry in the least, rather, he felt nauseous. But he knew that he needed to eat for the sake of Alfred, he couldn't afford having an empty stomach while plotting how to keep him safe.  
Another ten minutes and the elder man stood up, muttering a goodbye before he strode out into the hall. Arthur sighed softly, knowing that he was now along in a room with Francis.  
"We need to talk..." Francis mused out of the blue, setting his fork down gingerly as he looked over to the Brit. For a moment, Arthur could have sworn he saw a flicker of unease in the sapphire eyes that bored over to him. But then it was gone. A little nod was all Arthur gave, they did need to talk, Arthur needed to make it clear he wanted nothing to do with the other.  
"When you were gone, with Alfred, I went home for a while..." Came the soft reply from the Frenchman. Arthur raised a thick eyebrow, as if saying, 'well?'. "This entire marriage... Is a mistake.. We need to fix it."  
Arthur's jaw dropped slightly at what came next from Francis, looking over to him with wide and curious eyes. Francis was looking around the room slowly, thinking about all the harm he had caused. He'd insulted Alfred when he was in jail, because he'd wanted to forget about what happened when he was at home. Arthur was Francis's, he should feel pleased. Arthur was beautiful, from the soft blond hair that sat atop his head, which framed a beautiful face. Francis should be _happy_ that he was engaged to such a man...  
"What could have possibly possessed you to say that?" Arthur finally asked, looking over to him with questioning eyes. Not angry eyes though, he was hearing exactly what he'd wanted to hear from the start.  
"When I was younger, I used to play with a boy my age. His name is Matthieu, he is the son of a high up noble back in Paris..." Francis began, not sure how to explain it all. "When I went back to visit a few weeks ago, I saw him again... And I found the same feelings for him that you have for that American of yours." He muttered slowly, looking over to Arthur. Yes, of course he knew where Arthur had been last night, he knew running away was completely consensual.  
Arthur's jaw nearly dropped for the second time, and he looked over to Francis with something resembling pity. At least they both had someone who they felt they couldn't be close to...  
"Oh..." Was all the Brit muttered, looking down at the half empty plate on the table.  
"I... We just need to stop this entire thing..." Francis honestly was getting a bit frightened at the moment. He always tried to convince himself he loved Arthur, even though they'd not met too far back. He loved his lithe form, and the Brits rare smile, and all he was always amazed that such a little body could hold such a stubborn personality. But he didn't love Arthur, not like he wished he did. It would all be so much easier if he did... But his eyes were set on the sweet, soft voiced, violet eyed Canadian back in his hometown.  
For a moment, his mind flashed back to the sweet teen. When he'd first drives back in Paris, Matthew had walked up and shyly given him a hug, which Francis knew took a lot of courage, Matthew was such a shy boy.  
"Maybe if you'd taken a bloody moment to think in the beginning, none of this would of happened..." Arthur remarked, feeling his resolve almost slip. For a moment he felt like he and Francis had something in common, a lover. But no, this man had tried to harm him, both emotionally and physically. He'd been cruel to Alfred, and that couldn't be forgiven….  
"I know..." Was all Francis could manage to mumble. "But at least we're both on the same page now.. So we can work together?" Francis asked, voice rising slightly in hope.  
"No way in hel-..." Arthur had cut his own self off, he was letting his emotions get the better of him. Francis was offering much needed help, he was offering another story to persuade everyone that they shouldn't be married. "Alright." He said curtly, nodding with a soft sigh. He had no one else to turn to, he still wasn't positive about his brothers, they seemed like they had an intent that was their own.  
A smile lit up the others face, "Merci, Arthur!" He said warmly, feeling hopeful. He could go home to his Canadian!  
"Don't. We're not friends, don't act like we are." Arthur said in an icy tone, laying down his own rules right then and there. "Nothing's going to change, I don't like you remotely, and you've caused hell to both me and Alfred. I'm working with you so I can be with him." He said, rising to his feet slowly. Francis sighed softly, blinking and looking down, looking up again with a smile a moment later.  
"Right... Nonetheless, we can discuss this somewhere else, non?" Francis asked, noting that the doors had been left wide open, and anyone passing could hear them.  
"Yes... I suppose we could go to my garden, come on.." Arthur mused, walking to the door. Francis had already been in his garden, he'd sullied memories Arthur had of Alfred. Him going in there again wasn't going to change anything. Francis nodded wordlessly, rising to his feet and following after him to the rose garden.  
As they walked, Arthur looked to the rows of neglected roses. He hadn't been there to care for them, the result was the bushes looked a little dimmer in color, petals slowly floating to the floor every now or then. He made a mental note to care for them later, walking to the center and sitting on the edge of the marble bench. He half expected Francis to do what he did last time, sit far too close to him and try to make a move. But all he did was take a seat on the opposite end, looking over to him with soft eyes.  
"We need to be clear, honest with our parents." Francis said curtly, knowing that both of their fathers needed to know. "If neither of us are consenting to this marriage, they won't make us."  
"You think I haven't tried that?" Arthur replied curtly.  
"They don't think you're in your right mind, with all the 'kidnapping'." Francis countered, then spoke up again. "With the both of us though..." He continued to talk, Arthur having no choice but to listen along.

After seven long and painful hours of planning what to say to their parents, and a lot of bickering between the two, the Brit and the Frenchman knew what to say. However, they both agreed to retire for the day. Arthur desperately wanted to go see Alfred, and Francis wanted to contact Matthew.  
As it turned out, Francis hadn't as much as told Matthew his feelings yet. Arthur had been surprised, for someone as loud and boisterous as Francis, surely speaking his mind to the other couldn't be that hard. "It's different than asking feelings... If I get turned down..." Francis had mused when Arthur had been teasing him about it. In Arthur's opinion, it was a bit of a gamble. But then again, someone as attractive as Francis would not have much of a problem with the possibility getting turned down.  
"Au reviour..." Francis had bid him farewell as they parted. Arthur had hurriedly turned a sprinkler on for his roses, before heading off to go see Alfred, plate of hamburgers in his hand. He remembered months ago when Alfred had kindly asked for them, and realized he'd only made them once for him.  
He almost skipped up the stairs to see him, feeling that familiar fluttering sensation in his stomach. He'd missed Alfred, even though they had only parted for mere hours.  
"Alfred?" Arthur called out as he finally reached the top, pushing the door open with his shoulder as he walked in. The American had been laying back on the bed, his shirt had mysteriously disappeared, and he had new bandages wrapped around the few injuries he'd sustained from the days of a prisoner. Arthur could only guess Patrick had come up to help, based on the way that the bottom of the bandages was folded over. Only Patrick did that, their mother had only taught him, since he was the youngest he got to learn everything medical.  
"Artie~!" He proclaimed happily, hastily pushing himself to his feet and walking over to wrap his arms around the Brits lithe frame. Arthur smiled as he was hugged, wrapping one arm around him, the other hand held up a plate of hamburgers.  
Alfred immediately perked up at the smell, looking over to what he held.  
"Are those-?" He grinned like a child on Christmas morning, seeing Arthur nod. Alfred hadn't eaten anything decent in weeks! And in response he leaned over, wrapping an arm around his waist and placing a hasty but deep kiss on the Brits lips. "Thank you~!" He said, watching with an amused smile as Arthur's cheeks lit up and he nodded, handing Alfred the plate. He hadn't had a chance to kiss Alfred much, he'd almost forgotten how amazing it was.  
Alfred walked over and took a seat on the bed, patting the spot next to him for Arthur to take a seat. The Brit did so, watching with amused eyes as the American ate a healthy amount of the food, sighing softly when he'd finished.  
"God, that was good.." Alfred said softly, leaning over and pecking the others cheek again in affection. Arthur smiled softly, leaning his head on the others shoulder.

"I'm glad…" He mused softly, rather glad that he and Francis were at least on the same page now. He didn't have to hide being with Alfred.

"Hey, don't you have to worry about that French asshole?" Alfred asked with a little frown, remembering loud and clear how Francis had sneered at him while in jail.

"That's actually… Interesting, apparently he has a lover, or someone he likes, in Paris… So he's going to help us." Arthur explained the best he knew how to. He didn't really know what this 'Matthew' guy was to Francis. A lover, secret admirer, crush? Alfred's eyes widened as he looked over to him with a grin.

"You're kidding!?" He exclaimed happily, his grin widening as Arthur shook his head. "Hell, this is awesome! This is stupendous!" Alfred was so beyond happy. Don't get him wrong, he still hated that French bastard for what he did to Arthur, but it was good to have another person on their side.

Alfred's eyes glanced over to Arthur lovingly, taking a long moment to simply look at him and all his beauty. Alfred was always astounded that Arthur –a prince, nonetheless- found an interest in Alfred. From the soft and fluffy golden hair that frames an almost feminine jawline, to his stunning jade eyes that were specked with emerald, to his white and perfect smile, and his adorable British accent that became prominent in the most adorable of times… God, Alfred could go on and on and on about how perfect Arthur was, he just couldn't believe that the Briton was his.

Before he could really help himself, Alfred was leaning over to gently capture Arthur's lips in a kiss, his arm wrapping around the Brit's waist to pull him closer. Arthur made a soft noise in the back of his throat in surprise, but happily leaned into him and returned the kiss. Arthur's hand slid up to run through Alfred's hair slowly, making a small sound in approval as Alfred fell back onto the bed, pulling Arthur with him. Arthur ended up laying directly on Alfred's chest, legs straddling the Americans hips. Not that he minded this at all.

Alfred began to suck on the others lower lip, biting down gently to earn a small moan from Arthur, and granted access to his mouth. The American's hands went to rest in the small of Arthur's back, slowly rubbing up and down between his shoulder blades. He slid his tongue into the Britons mouth, slowly exploring the hot cavern with his tongue, like he'd wanted to for what seemed like ages.

"Mh~" Arthur hummed in approval, whimpering softly as Alfred tilted his head and deepened the kiss. Rather quickly, a slow and deep kiss turned into a fast and hot one. Alfred's hands had roamed down further, gently kneading at the Brits ass. Arthur let out a little gasp of pleasure, feeling his cheeks turn a healthy shade of red at the attention to his lower backside. Their tongues fought in each other's mouth, various soft moans spilling from their lips.

Alfred broke the heated kiss, and dove for Arthur's neck a moment later, beginning to kiss along his jawline as his hands began to slide under Arthur's shirt.

"A-Alfred.." Arthur half gasped, looking down to him. "Y-you're still—ah.. Hurt, y-you should be relaxing.." He said, looking down to see Alfred's torso still covered in bandages. A throaty chuckle came from Alfred, as he bit down gently on the newly exposed collarbone.

"Oh I'm fine, don't you worry about me~.." Alfred cooed, his hand moving to unbutton his shirt one by one as his lips continued to attack Arthur's neck. It was worth a little soreness that Al felt in his shoulder, he hadn't been able to hug Arthur, kiss him, feel him up, for what felt like an eternity ago. Arthur could find no words to argue with him, the American was giving him too much pleasure. Alfred managed to pull the Brits shirt off finally, and flipped over quickly so he was hovering over him. Alfred wasted no time, feeling the need to see Arthur a hot panting mess underneath him.

He ground his hips against Arthur's almost greedily, savoring the sound of the moan that came from his lips. Arthur had gasped at the feeling, instinctively thrusting his hips upwards at the feeling to feel more friction, a loud moan emitting from his lips.

"Love you.." Alfred whispered over and over again as he kissed down his pale chest, hips grinding whenever they got the chance. Arthur had given up on trying to respond to his sweet words, constant little noises spilling from his lips as the other moved fast. Arthur felt his heart almost beating out of his chest at the speed of the other, it seemed like mere seconds later Arthur's pants and boxers had been removed. Arthur shivered as the air hit the sensitive skin that usually hid behind pants, crossing his legs subconsciously to hide himself. Alfred crawled over him again, leaning down to connect their lips in a deep and love filled kiss.

Arthur greedily kissed him back, another soft moan slipping through his lips as his hands moved down to the line of Alfred's pants, weakly tugging on them in a quiet plead to remove the little amount of clothing that kept them apart. Noticing the adorable little motion, Alfred reached down to slip off his pants and boxers, throwing them somewhere in the room, which was slowly growing darker as the sun set.

"Oh god, Alfred~" Arthur moaned loudly, feeling Alfred press his hips down and grind against him not too gently. He could feel something poking his leg and blushed brightly at that, another moment his lips were being devoured again, feeling three fingers soon be presented at his lips a moment later. Without being asked, Arthur opened his mouth and invited the digits in. His eyes fell half lidded as he focused on what he was doing, hand moving up to take ahold of Alfred's wrist. His tongue twisted and swirled around the digits as he worked, Alfred finally pulled them out from the others mouth, cheeks alight with a light blush.

"You're too sexy for your own good, Art~.." Alfred cooed into his ear as his middle finger pressed against his entrance, teasing the tensing muscles there, but not entering. Arthur's face lit to a brighter color, letting out a soft whimper of complaint as the other teased him.

"Alllfredddd.." He whined, trying to press his hips down against his hand. "Stop teasing meeee!" He commanded in a high tone. Alfred chuckled darkly, winking at him and leaning up to seal their lips together in a passionate and tongue filled kiss as he pushed the first finger all the way into him, pausing for a moment. Arthur felt a bit of discomfort, but was relieved to realized it melted away much quicker than the first time. He rocked his hips against the Americans finger, trying to tell him nonverbally he was more than capable of taking in more. Alfred twisted their tongues together in a smooth and dance-like motion, moving the finger in and out of him for a moment before adding a second.

Arthur made a soft sound in the back of his throat at the intrusion, taking a moment to adjust before the man above him slowly moved his fingers in and out of him, beginning to curl them slightly inside of him before adding the third and final finger. Arthur made a little noise as this, eyes slipping shut as he took a single breath to force himself to relax.

Alfred took this time to place little gentle kisses all over his upper torso and his face, mumbling the sweet, "I love you~" every chance he got. He'd missed saying such small and simple words so much to Arthur, he hadn't realized how much he depended on saying them. Soon enough Arthur was pushing his hips down against his hand, making little whimpering and moaning noises in pleasure. Once or twice Alfred had brushed that spot inside of him that had made his toes curl and his back arch, but the American seemed to enjoy avoiding it on most occasions, only brushing it to get him as excited as could humanly be.

The moans spilled from Arthur's lips shamelessly, and he finally managed to stutter out. "B-bloody he-hell, Alfred… J-just –ngh–…fuck m-me already!" Arthur was certain he'd never uttered such demanding –and dirty- words in his life, but the constant teasing and small brushes of pleasure were about to drive him insane.

"Ooh~, pushy are we?" Alfred said in a voice dripping with honey, pulling his fingers out nonetheless and positioning himself in front of the Brit in front of him. Arthur growled up to him weakly, stomach doing wonderful flips at the pleasure he knew would follow. Alfred's hands moved to the Brits inner thighs, spreading his legs a bit more. With one last sweet kiss to the lips and another mutter of Alfred's undying love, he slowly pushed into Arthur.

Arthur's eyes snapped shut as he tensed for a moment, feeling the rather large intrusion. Alfred being inside of him was most certainly a lot bigger than just fingers, and it took a moment to calm down and let his muscles relax. Alfred let out a little gasp as soon as he had pushed in, trying to control himself and keep his hips still. Arthur was still deliciously tight, he felt more than stupendous…

"A-alright…" Arthur said softly, nodding his head slowly as he blinked his eyes open. Just to show he was ready, he pushed his hips down against Alfred, feeling him push deeper in response. That earned a soft and throaty moan from Alfred, who pulled out slowly, pushing back in slowly and letting another moan roll off his lips.

Arthur winced slightly, but a soft sound slipped past his lips, both of pleasure and pain. More pleasure. "A-Al…" The Briton moaned softly, feeling him brush something, just barely graze it… Alfred kept up his slow rhythm for a while, groaning softly as he rolled his hips forward into the other. "Bloody _hell_!" Arthur cried out half a moment after in pleasure, feeling Alfred quickly pull out, then shove back in rather roughly for the first time; directly hitting his prostate. Even with the single hit, Arthur arched his back a bit in pleasure, feeling his member throbbing and begging for attention, pre-cum coating it rather hastily.

A wide grin spread on the Americans lips at this, and he angled for the same spot as the roughly thrust back in, earning another loud cry. Arthur's legs wrapped around Al's waist tightly, trying to get him to move faster, and hit harder. Alfred complied, grabbing Arthur's hips with both hands as he began to speed up his thrusts, earning loud cries and moans. Arthur adored how strong Alfred was, how his hands could so firmly grasp his hips.

The room smelled strongly of sex, Alfred sped up his thrusts to as fast as he would allow, moaning deeply as Arthur clenched around him each time he hit that spot inside. One hand left the Britons hips as it went to his neglected member, beginning to quickly pump him off in rhythm with his thrusts.

The combination of Alfred thrusting inside of him and his hand quickly pumping him sent Arthur flying over the edge. With a loud cry of his lovers name, his back arched and his toes curled; coming. His eye rolled back slightly as he did so, eyes snapped shut as he rode out his orgasm. Alfred was almost there as well, thrusting in a few more times before the tightness of Arthur's muscles clamping down on him sent him over, pushing in once more and coming.

A moment later Alfred pulled out of the panting Brit and rolled over to lay next to him, a panting mess. Arthur's eyes were hazed over in pleasure as his chest rose and fell quickly, the sticky white substance covering his and Alfred's stomachs. Tiredly, he wrapped an arm around Arthur's lithe frame and pulled him closer, placing a gentle kiss to his lips.

"I-I love you.." He panted slightly, smiling over to Arthur. Said Brit curled in closer to Alfred, letting his eyes slip shut at the warmth that emitted from the taller. Arthur had a feeling that no matter how many times they'd have sex in the future, he'd always be as worn out. Alfred was, to put it bluntly, a god in bed.

"L-..Love you too.." He whispered, already drifting off to sleep. Alfred felt a smile light up his features, letting his own eyes slip shut as he curled closer and followed his lover into oblivion.

Author's Note: AHHHHH, words cannot describe how frustrated how I got at myself for this. My mind just shut the fuck off for anything, especially the smut part. I'm sorry if it was terrible guys, I can usually do a lot better :/ Let me know if that was any good at all, because I didn't think so.. Anyhow, I do hope you liked this chapter enough. Frannie isn't a bad guy! I hope you dudes like Franada… I really adore Francis, and you'll get a good enough insight on what he's been thinking too, which adds more perspective for me. It's hard to hate people when you figure out their background… Anyways, sorry again if it was no good, but PLEASE comment on this. Unless you write on here a lot like I do, it's hard to understand just how much a single comment can make a day seem so much brighter.

Thanks for reading, expect another chapter sometime soon!


	10. A Fairy Tale Ending

Chapter 10

A Fairy Tale Ending

* * *

After a wonderful night in bed with his lover, Arthur awoke the next morning to feel bright sunlight pouring in through the small window on the opposite end of the room. The suns beams graced his skin and poured over Alfred as well, who was latched onto Arthur as tightly as could be, his muscular arms laced around the Brit's lithe waist. He sighed softly in content in happiness, loving the feeling of being so close to him, the feeling that they'd never be separated again.

Arthur could only guess it was already later on into the morning, and remembered he was supposed to meet up with Francis to help plan out what they were going to do.. God, today would make a difference in history. Because whatever they did, they needed to do it fast. Within a week, he and Francis would be married, and there would be no chance to live a happy life with Alfred.

"Alfred… Love, wake up…" He whispered, gently shaking the others shoulder. The American blinked an eye open, groaning softly as he looked up to him.

"Artieeee…." He complained, "It's early…" He whispered, not wanting to face the day just yet. He buried his face in the skin of Arthur's stomach, having moved down a bit to hug at his non-clothed waist.

"I know, I apologize love… I have to go talk to that bloody frog…." Arthur whispered, earning a groan from the other.

"I wanted another round though…" Alfred whispered, looking up at him with happy and joyful eyes. Arthur chuckled, lightly smacking the top of his head.

"You horny little child… Now let go of me, I've got to go to Francis.." He whispered with an amused grin, struggling weakly against him and laughing.

"Kiss?" Alfred asked with a tired smile, and a hint of pout in his tone. Arthur rolled his eyes, but smiled at the American's adorableness. He leaned down and connected their lips. Not in a light, feathery one, they'd both had their share of those. Instead it was a deep, passionate one where Arthur let a moan slip from his lips before he pulled away and licked his lips with a mischievous grin.

"I'll be back tonight, love… I'm sorry, I know it's not very fair to have you in here all day, but hopefully soon enough we'll be able to get you out…" He said, then stood up after worming out of Alfred's grasp. He gathered all of his clothing and threw it on, planning on running by his room and changing before he met Francis anyways. "Bye love~!" Arthur cooed in his sweet voice before running out the door and closing it behind him. He began to skip down the hundreds of stairs, panting slightly by the time he reached the bottom. He slid out of the small exit undetected, running all the way across the castle and up two flights of stairs, back to his room.

Once he was in, he went ahead and stripped down his old clothing from yesterday, going to his wardrobe. He pulled out a pair of black slacks, a crisp white button up shirt, a black and white pinstriped, sleeveless vest, a black fedora hat, and a pair of older boots that laced up to his knees.

He slid the pants on, going ahead and shoving his shoes on so that his pants were hidden for the most part under the boots. He laced them up, then slid on the shirt, doing the buttons up hastily, putting them all in wrong, having to undo them, and then button them up the correct way. He slipped the vest on, feeling as it hugged at his body tightly like it was supposed to. He smiled, running out a moment later.

He met Francis in the rose garden, where he was hoping he would considering they hadn't really thought out where they'd be meeting up. He approached him cautiously, still not having forgiven him from everything that had happened.

" 'Ello, Francis." He said calmly, looking over to the young prince, who was sitting down on the cold stone bench, head in his hands as he looked intently to the bright green grass that was under his feet. The Frenchman looked up as he heard a voice, it being evident he hadn't slept little-if all last night.

"Bonjour, Arthur." He said quietly, running a hand through his hair which was surprisingly unkept. It wasn't fixed to perfection, rather it looked like he'd tiredly ran a brush through half of it, then given up. He pushed the disheveled locks behind his ear as he looked up to someone he wish he could consider his friend.

"Any ideas on what we can do?" Arthur asked, ignoring the fact he looked like he was dying (which he wasn't) and getting strait to the point. The Briton walked over to one of his rose bushes, and plucked off one of the dark blue roses; one of his rarer breeds of flowers. He lazily twirled it between his fingers, the color reminding him of the American's gorgeous eyes.

"Actually, oui, I was up thinking about it last night." Francis said, rising to his feet and looking down at all the different roses. "We could have both Matthieu and Alfred come with us in front of the whole kingdom on the day we're supposed to get married; and we'll speak the truth."

"Francis you seem to forget that Alfred is a wanted person, they'd shoot him on sight if they saw him." Arthur pointed out, looking over to the Frenchman with a raised eyebrow. Still, the idea was not completely outlandish. If they could somehow insure Alfred's safety, their parents couldn't deny them if they pronounced it in front of the entire kingdom.

"Hm… Your brothers could assist us." Francis pointed out.

"Still…. You, Alfred, Matthew, Patrick, James, and I? Against hundreds of thousands of guards with bows and arrows?"

"Oui."

"…You're bloody insane." Arthur muttered after a moment, taking a step away when Francis got a bit too close for his liking.

"All it would take was a command from the prince of England, to tell them not to fire. You can override your fathers words, on occasions. You do control ninety precent of the military." Francis pointed out, taking a step away as well, knowing it would only be right to give him space.

"But what if they don't listen? They'll all know that I'm going against my fathers wishes." Arthur sulked, shoulders sinking a bit as he dropped the rose to the ground and brought his foot up, crushing it under the heel of his boot. This was too risky, he could risk losing Alfred, he could risk someone not listening to him and shooting the American. Or his father could command them to attack; surely one of them would… This could never work…

"Arthur, before you took control of the military under your fathers orders, that man sent them off to a war they didn't want to fight. They don't respect him. They respect you."

"Francis, by us not marrying… We might start a war." Arthur near whispered, finally turning to face him. There was a look in his eyes, something resembling defeat. "Remember, you said it yourself. 'War or marriage'."

"What do you want to do about it? We'll have to take a chance, and maybe we can write a peace treaty together."

Arthur took his heel off the rose, eyes wandering down to the crushed petals, destroyed petals. All his life, Arthur had prided in his roses, how tough they were and how beautiful. In a way, they were almost like Arthur himself. But, they were easily destroyed, and that was not something Arthur wished to be. He was determined now, he wanted to be with his American.

"Alright. Let's do it."

* * *

~The day of the wedding~

Day after day had passed, and both Arthur and Francis had been working feverishly to fix any little problems they had in their plan. Everything had to be perfect, if one thing didn't work out, Alfred could lose his life. And today was the big day, the Briton had already been fitted to a pearl white suit, with a dark green vest underneath that brought out the color in his eyes. His hair had not been tamed, it was simply an impossible task to achieve. And at the current minute, he was standing behind the doors with Francis.

He had to admit, the man was rather dashing himself. A black suit, a blue vest showing underneath to compliment the sea blue eyes he owned. They were facing a pair of mahogany doors, completely silent other than the sound of their shaky, terrified breathing. Just behind those doors was a balcony out, where the entire kingdom was loud, cheering, throwing flowers up to the balcony happily as they cried out in joy to see their soon to be husbands. His father was giving a speech, his loud and booming voice echoing throughout the high kingdom walls. There were hundreds of soldiers positioned all around the kingdom, guns ready and poised if anything were to happen. But Arthur had rounded them all up, and told them the complete truth. About Alfred, and he'd voluntarily gone with him, that he loved him, the whole nine yards. These were his people after all, they deserved nothing but the truth.

The room the two of them stood in was tense, silent, the air could have been cut with a butter knife because of the immense tension it held.

"Francis?" Arthur breathed quietly, sparing him a glance. He was biting on his lower lip roughly, his hands were clasped together tightly behind his back, his back erect as he stood up completely strait.

"Oui?" The Frenchman muttered, sparing the younger a glance.

"Will this work?" Arthur questioned.

Francis opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly the large doors in front of them were swinging open, and the deafening sound of the townspeople screaming out was audible. He took a sharp intake of breath, then followed the Frenchman outside.

The day was a hot one, so of course the suits didn't help with the fact he was sweating like a mule. He looked out over the balcony, to the crowd of all of the people, _his _people. '_Breathe Arthur.. Breathe.' _He thought, hearing the 'guards' walk out behind them. The guards were dressed in armor, also wearing a hat that covered most of their face, only their lips and chins visible. But those were not normal guards, they just so happened to be Alfred, and Matthew in disguise. Of course the Canadian didn't have the faintest idea why he was there, only that his childhood friend had called him here and called it a matter of the 'upmost emergency'. But Alfred knew about the whole plan, and he was fidgeting awkwardly from foot to foot. Arthur had been the one to suggest they come in as guards, because of the chain link armor and the chest plate made of metal, bows and arrows wouldn't pierce it, and he'd be safe.

James and Patrick were poised high up, laying on a roof with bows and arrows poised to shoot at anyone who was going to try and get near their brother. Their eyes were narrowed in concentration, as they watched the scene unraveling in front of them. Arthur had asked them the favor, and they'd been more than happy to oblige. Anything to make their precious little brother happy.

"Ladies! Gentlemen!" Francis called out with a happy smile. Both Arthur and the Frenchman had agreed to let the blue-eyed prince talk, for he was much better with stringing sentences together under pressure. "Today, we've come here to witness a marriage of two people who truly care for each other!" His voice was loud, booming over the walls as each and every member of the kingdom went silent, hanging onto his every word. Francis paused then, and spared a glance over to the Briton, who nodded his head. He could hear the chain link metal moving around subtly behind him, only guessing Alfred was putting weight onto a different foot.

"But non, it is not a marriage of Arthur and I. It is a marriage of Arthur, and someone who you thought to be rogue." Francis made it sound so simple, so right. "You've all been deceived by your king, he's made Arthur tell a lie! He's-"

Suddenly, the king was shoving Francis aside. "What are you doing boy!?" He hissed over to him, keeping his voice low. Everyone down below suddenly broke out in a roar.

"Let him finish! Let him finish! Let him finish!" They all chanted in a weird unison that usually only happened in movies, though it managed to make the king pale, and he went silent, stepping back and the other continue.

"You have all been informed that Arthur was kidnapped, this is a lie." By this time, once more the palace people were listening to him as he spoke, announced himself. Matthew was looking through the slots in his hat, watching the Frenchman in front of him with wide eyes. "He went with him on his own volition, to escape a forced marriage of he and I. A marriage that was forced by my father, and your king. You see, the two were in love; they _are _in love! So, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I present to you…. Your prince, and his fiancé!" Francis took this time to step aside, his arm held out as he motioned for the two to step forward.

Alfred took off the hat, letting it fall to the floor as he looked ahead to Arthur. The Briton's breath hitched in his throat, as he finally looked back to Alfred. He was open now, vulnerable. Someone could aim for his head and it'd all be over. But no one did.

Arthur's father's mouth opened wide, as he pointed over directly at Alfred. "Kill him! Kill the outlaw!" The world was completely silent, there was no sound of a bow being cocked, or an arrow flying through the air. No one listened to their king. "What the bloody hell are you doing!? Shoot him!" The older man shouted, but no one obeyed him.

Arthur took this chance to grab Alfred's hand, and pull him forward so they were both on the balcony, where all of the people below could see them. With Alfred's hand in his own, he slowly raised them over their heads, holding their conjoined hands high up into the air. Yet the world remained silent for another moment, the sound of a baby crying could be heard somewhere, echoing off the walls.

And without a warning, the crowd broke out into screams, cries of joy as they saw the two. Hundreds of things were being shouted up to them, all of them being words of encouragement, words of happiness. Arthur felt a large smile grow on his lips, and he turned to Alfred. But before he could say anything, the American was leaning down and stealing his lips for a kiss, showing the entire kingdom his totally awesome fiancé. Arthur tensed in surprise, having to lean up against the balcony slightly to handle the intensity of the kiss, groaning softly up against Alfred's lips as he pressed him against the cement railing.

A moment later the taller pulled away from him and looked out over the roaring crowd, holding their conjoined hands high up in the air once more, the yells suddenly getting louder.

"I think they like us Arthur." Alfred pronounced happily, then leaned out over the balcony and waved very American-like out at the crowd. "Hey! Hi! I'm Alfred~!" He called out happily, hearing them call out his name happily. He was still wearing the chain-link armor that the guards wore, and it shimmered under the sunlight. For the first time in a while, Alfred looked healthy, happy, alive. He had recovered from his stay in prison, and even though he wasn't allowed out of his little room, he'd taken to sprinting up and down the hundreds of steps to help keep himself in shape, as well as push ups, anything he could do while Arthur was gone.

He gave the entire crowd one of his gorgeous smiles as he waved. For a moment, the world was perfect, absolutely perfect. Arthur's dad had actually gone as far to stalk inside, and he was gone. Arthur had a feeling he wouldn't be seeing the man for a while. Because the king knew he'd lost, he knew he couldn't argue with an entire kingdom.

Arthur turned back to look over to Francis, to find he'd pulled Matthew's hat off of him, and had eloquently pressed the Canadian up against a wall. Their lips were locked together tightly in a rather passionate kiss, as if the Frenchman was pouring all of his love into the motion. His hand was roaming through the soft and silky blond locks the violet-eyed teen owned. No one but Arthur and Alfred could see them from where they stood, and he grinned from ear to ear. He was happy for Francis. He was happy in general really. Alfred was alright, he wasn't injured or dead. And then it hit him.

He and Alfred were married.

Sure, they'd have to sign a few documents that made it official, but Francis had announced it, and they'd shared a kiss and… He would be Alfred's husband!

"Alfred I love you!" The Briton suddenly exclaimed happily, leaping forward and throwing himself into the Americans arms, kissing him once more. Everything was perfect.

* * *

~After lots of boring paper signing~

Arthur could honestly say his hand ached from signing so many papers, and his voice hurt from scolding all of the councilmen who glared at Alfred. But at last, the American and the Briton were together, soaking in a hot bath. It felt amazing, to be leaning up against the back of a tub, the hot water and the bubbles hiding what lay beneath the liquids surface. Alfred was on the opposite side of the tub, their legs were resting comfortably against each other. Their eyes were locked together lovingly, as they simply stared into the others eyes. No other words could be said at the moment.

The room was dimly lit, only a few candles sitting on the edge of the tub to keep the dark room lit. It was well on into the night.

"It's all over now… Thank god, I could sleep for a month.." Arthur whispered, resting his head up against the back of the tub, the water rustling when he he moved his leg against Alfred's in a more comfortable position.

Alfred laughed, but shook his head. "You kidding? That was just one adventure, it was_ just the beginning_ of what we're going to do in life!" Alfred exclaimed happily. Arthur smiled lightly and laughed.

"Yes, I suppose… So, how does it feel to be a prince?" He questioned.

"The food. The food it amazing." Alfred said with a little laugh, sinking into the water up to his shoulders, tilting his head down so he could blow at the bubbles in the water, getting some on his nose. This made Arthur giggle, as he looked over to him.

"Hey Alfred… I love you, I know I've said it before but… I really, really do." Arthur near whispered this, emerald eyes shining with a bit of embarrassment.

"I love you too Arthur." Alfred replied, the same cocky grin fell onto his lips that Arthur adored oh so much. Alfred was his knight in shining armor, his hero, his everything. He was his sugar to his tea, his sun to the world, his peace to countries, his… god, there were so many ways to describe it.

But the bottom line to what he was saying, Alfred was the hero that everyone in life needed. He was the person who shoved him to his feet and showed him the world. He showed him who he was and he didn't take no for an answer.

But most of all; Alfred had shown him that life was full of adventures, and this was just the beginning.

* * *

Author's note: **This story is officially done. **I'm sorry if it didn't meet up to all of you guys' expectations, I myself feel like I rushed it far too much. But recently I've been having writers block, and I've had it for like, five months. I think it's the fact I haven't really been inspired recently about this story. As much as I thought about discontinuing this story, I've seen so many of my favorite writers do this and it kills me. So, I tried to finish it for you guys.

Lot's of people wanted this to end in smut, I'm sorry it didn't but I feel like lots of FanFictions do, so yeah…

Everyone, thank you so much for following this story, and thanks for everything because it's really awesome to get to come on here and write for people, I really do love it. You can look forward to more stories in the future (after a little break, in which I'll be doing some one-shots and give my brain a break), and I still have to finish my other story.

Here's the thing, if you want to flame you're more than welcome to. (I'm probably the only writer that said that). But here's the catch, don't be a fucking coward (like someone else did to me), do not comment very meanly, then disable our PMing so I cannot reply to you. That is cowardice. Oh, and if the person that read that is reading this, you know who you are. So poo on you. _Sorry for anyone else who read that but that person just really pissed me off. _

**THANK YOU ALL FOR READING I LOVE YOU ALL AND GO HAVE FUN READING THINGS YOUR PARENTS HAVE NO IDEA YOU'RE READING. YOU BEAUTIFUL, SECRETIVE CREATURES YOU. **


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